


Summer is Coming

by Not_So_Dark_One



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A jonerys endgame still exists, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anti North mostly, As the story takes form, Assassination Attempt(s), Boatbaby (Game of Thrones), But is the failure of a monarch we all know she would be in the end, Daenerys Targaryen Deserves Better, Daenerys Targaryen Is Not a Mad Queen, Daenerys Targaryen-centric, Daenerys and Jon won't jump into bed at first meeting, Daenerys is queen of Volantis, Dark Jon Snow, Desperate, Don't Judge Me, Don't Like Don't Read, Don't post hate comments, Dragon Riders, Dragons, Emotional Hurt, Empire Building, Endgame Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Eventual Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Grieving, I am making this up as I go along, I favor Daenerys, IT LIVES, Internal Conflict, It will be Belljonerys, Jealousy, Jon Snow Knows Something, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon Snow-centric, Jon goes east eventually, King Bran Stark, Let's get something clear, Love Triangles, Love/Hate, Magic, Many go east eventually, Multi, Over Jon, POV Daenerys Targaryen, POV Jon Snow, POV Sansa Stark, POV Tyrion Lannister, Please Don't Hate Me, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Episode: s08e06 The Iron Throne, Queen Daenerys Targaryen, Rebellion in the south, Redemption, Resurrection, Sansa Stark is Queen in the North, Self-Hatred, Self-Indulgent, Tags May Change, Take the newest relationship tags for instance, The Free Cities (ASoIaF), Though if i had to name it, To make things more interesting, Volantis, Westeros, Westerosi Politics, and them over all the other characters, anti starks, but not too much, depends on what you understand by dark, don't be critics, eventual, haters go to hell, humor me, just a little bit, just enjoy the story, nothing too much, or something like that, revolutionaries called the Young will play a huge part in the plot, sansa is not evil, she was just very angry, some people try to do better though, the North has problems, they live in a very confusing world where morals are always questionable, you will see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:54:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 43,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21885112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_So_Dark_One/pseuds/Not_So_Dark_One
Summary: She died in the arms of the man she loved. Her dream of a better world shattered by those who should have supported her. She lost. She died. And then she lived again.She is the Prince that was promised. She brought the dawn back, even though none of those who survived the Battle of Ice and Fire will ever admit it. But the Lord remembers better than men. Evil is punished with evil. And good with good. She died for her sins at the hands of the man who stole her heart. And she lives again for her crucial stand against the forces of evil, both living and not. Her daughter did not perish in the womb, for the Lord raised her as well. She is Daenerys Targaryen. And the only man she will ever love is called Jon Snow, the one who killed her. But what if she could have all that he has ever dreamed of and more?In Westeros, the lords thought that the wars were over. That there is peace. But the people do not want peace. Their grievances have been brought to the light. No longer the sheep that many highborn though them to be, the smallfolk want a voice in the way their lives are made. And if they will not be given that voice, they will take it. For they are the Young.
Relationships: Bellegere Otherys/Daenerys Targaryen, Bellegere Otherys/Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow & Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Sansa Stark/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 254
Kudos: 231





	1. She has risen

"You will always be my queen.", his words. His last words. The only words that man can speak to her. The words he spoke to her when he stabbed her in the heart and her world went dark.

She drifted through the darkness, all alone save for a light. A single light that guided her somewhere. A presence of some kind. She desperately tried to follow it. For even though she felt like an infant, still in their mother's womb, she felt a desire. A primal desire that shrouded all else. The desire to live. Her story could not be over. Not like this.

The light expanded and the painful blackness of the void was replaced with a blinding light. She lived. Surrounded by what appeared to be dozens of red priests, cheering their praises for the Lord of Light, she rose from the flat surface upon which her body laid. She could hear her Drogon roaring, announcing her return for all who could hear. She couldn't see him though. She was inside a building and he was not. She could barely remain conscious, feeling of tiredness set in and she fell asleep.

Next time she woke up it was in a feathered bed, soft and comfortable. This time there was no exhaustion. She took a deep breath. _I died. He killed me. What is this place? Some kind of hell, built just for her?_ A hell was unlikely for it was way too comfortable for her to be in hell. The room was not too spacious, but it was comfortably large. Almost as large as her chambers in the Great Pyramid of Meereen. Too much red for her taste though. What is this? Casterly Rock?

Daenerys went to the window and pried it open. The fresh air of the world of the living filled her lungs. She could see Drogon dancing in the sky, the people on the streets gawking at him. she looked around, trying to discern the location. She has been here before. Back when her brother and her were guests of one of the old blood, Ternessio Vhadar. A vast palace and a tiny heart, the man had thrown them out when Viserys had refused to marry Dany to the old lecher. _A few years later, he might have come to loath his choice._

This is Volantis, Valyria's First Daughter. 

A knock on the door was heard and a woman entered. She wore a red robe and a large choker with a massive red ruby that she could swear glowed. She was beautiful but carried herself as a figure of authority.

"Greetings, great queen. I am Kinvara, High priestess of the Red Temple of Volantis."

"Why?"

"Why..."

"Why am I here? I was dead."

"And now you live again."

"I do not deserve it.", guilt started to overflow, her memories having returned. "I burned a whole city full of innocents."

"And you died for it.", she replied, her tone not changing in the slightest. "You were killed by the one you loved, before even getting the chance to sit upon the throne you fought for. Or did you think it not punishment enough?", she asked with a slight mocking in her voice.

"Tens of thousands for one life. Is it fair?"

"The lives of worthless peasants against the life of the one who was promised. If you ask me, your life is worth far more than that." That answer did not satisfy her. "Why did you do it?"

Why? She had an answer for that. One that was not of madness as she was certain many believed. "I needed them to fear me. I had failed too much, lost too much. I could have taken that wretched city a hundred times over if I hadn't listened to the advice of those 'more knowledgeable' than me. If I had...Missandei, Jorah and all the others, so many people would still live. I failed to protect them, all the while that bitch sat on her arse in MY city on MY throne and left us to fight the Great war on our own. And when I took it, when the bells rang...it was too easy. All that suffering for it and I took it in less than an hour. Can you imagine how that felt?" her anger increased. "And the people who lived there. The innocents?! It seems that they prefer to suffer under tyrants than to liberate themselves. So I gave them what they seemed to crave - another tyrant."

"So you thought yourself justified in robbing them of their lives? To punish them with fire for their failings?" There was no accusation in her voice.

"At that moment yes. I thought that if I hadn't made an example out of them, many would have risen against me, using the innocents as shields against me. I had to make a show of force. At least that is what the half-starved, tired, betrayed and lonely woman riding a dragon thought when she looked at that city, the bells ringing in surrender, though doing nothing, but further anger her."

"And you? What does the Breaker of Chains think?"

"That....that she should have left Westeros before it twisted her soul. Before it made her into a monster." she admitted, the tears no longer held back by her eyes.

"Welcome back, Mother of Dragons, Bride of Fire, Slayer of Lies. We have been waiting for your return." the priestess knelt. "The Lord was right about you. You were lost to us and now you are found once more. For your sacrifices, he has bestowed upon you three gifts."

"What gifts?", Dany asked.

"The gift of life.", she stated looking directly at her. "And the gift of a future." The doors behind Kinvara opened again and a woman entered, she was youthful and judging by her looks, she hailed from Yi Ti. But what drew Dany's attention was what she carried in her arms. Her breathing stopped as she looked upon the babe handed to her, lovely lilac eyes and beautiful silver curls. _Jon's curls._

"It cannot be. How..."

"You were pregnant when you died, Daenerys Stormborn. But the Lord shielded your child from the grasp of death and helped it mature faster, so that it could be saved."

If she weren't a weepy mess by then, she certainly was one now. But she didn't care. She had a child. A daughter. After the maegi's prophesy, she had slowly come to accept that she will never have children and yet now she held her own. Her own daughter. 

"This is my daughter, Rhaenys Targaryen.", she announced with all the strength her emotional state could provide for her.

Dany kept on staring at her daughter. Little Rhaenys, she named for famous queen who died too young, almost like her little girl. Rhaenys was perfect. All Dany ever dreamed of.  
She got lost in the moment so much that Dany failed to notice how many shouts came through the open window as her daughter started to cry.

"What the fuck is all this noise?"

"The streets are crying for freedom, Breaker of Chains. They know you are here. They seek their freedom. What shall you do?"

"I want to raise my daughter in peace and splendor. For her to have all that I lacked when I was young. And for that I need a home. Volantis could do, if I make some...adjustments. Send a call to my allies, Daario Naharis in Meereen, Yara Greyjoy in Westeros and call Grey Worm and his Unsullied as well. Choose people you trust for this must be done in secrecy. As for right now, summon the triarchs here. Tell them that Daenerys of House Targaryen, daughter of Aerys II, descendant of Aegon the Conqueror, Aenar the Exile and Daenys the Dreamer, scion of Old Valyria, wishes to speak to them."

* * *

As soon as the red priestess came to talk to them in the Palace of the Triarchs, the great building that served as a temple of the political life in the city, everyone was on high alert. Daenerys Targaryen had summoned them to talk to her in the Red Temple where she had taken residence. Though that was not fair. In truth, everyone was on edge ever since the massive dragon cast a shadow upon the city as he flew over it and landed in the large yard near the Red Temple, last week. The word was that Daenerys Targaryen had died in Westeros, the how was not clear. Some whispered that her own lover had slain her to steal her throne. The Westerosi were truly a savage lot. 

As one of the current triarchs, he went to the red temple to settle this. To find out what she wanted. Despite the ravings of his colleagues, the city was at her mercy. All the slaves had stopped working, some had even assaulted their owners. Which, to be honest, he couldn't judge too harshly. Some people were very abusive towards their slaves. Take for instance Ternessio Vhadar. The man was known to beat his female slaves, when he bedded them. Doniphos Paenymion knew that many of them were killed in such vile acts. So it came as no surprise when he learned that two days ago, his slaves had killed both the man and his son, thus ending the Vhadar family. 

The whole city was frozen. The vastly outnumbered freeborn citizens had hidden inside their houses, while the old blood was hiding behind the Black walls, guarded by men, whose loyalties were also uncertain. For the Tiger guards were all worshippers of the Lord of Light. One word from Daenerys Targaryen and the streets would run red with blood.

So after explaining all that to his fellow triarchs, Elladio Maegyr, son of a prominent former Triarch Malaquo Maegyr, the old tiger, and Alios Qhaedar as well as himself took to their elephants and went for the temple. People of quality did not walk barefoot. A custom left over from Old Valyria, where those of quality rode dragons. Just like the woman they were about to meet. 

The streets were full of slaves, who screamed slurs against the Old Blood, shouting for their blood. How ironic that just a little over a year ago, people in the city shouted for the blood of Daenerys Targaryen. Doniphos almost lost his seat among the Triarchs, given he was against waring on a fellow valyrian. The last true dragonlord, despite what his fellows living inside the black walls said of themselves. The woman had the potential to raise the Valyrians back to glory. They shouldn't have sided with the mongrel spawn of the old slave empire of Ghis. And yet they did. His imbecilic cousin, Belicho, who was heavily invested in the slave trade, had been the one who stirred the others into sending Volantene ships to aid the Ghiscari. Now a third of their fleet is rotting at the bottom of the sea.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden stop in the elephant's movement. _We are here._

He got off it and went to see his fellow triarchs. "We shouldn't be here, Elladio." "Then where? Butchered on the streets." "She will kill us anyway. Her stance on slavery is well known." "We are responsible for the welfare of the city, Alios."

Of the two, the man, his voters called the Young Tiger, was the one who instilled in him much promise. Doniphos has been Triarch for the last 8 years, so he has seen all sorts of politicians. Elladio's father was the typical Tiger. Completely unreasonable. And alas irreplaceable for the man had been ruling for decades. The Triarchs were consisted of two Elephants and one Tiger, lest the latter party drove them into constant warfare. Elladio was not his father though. Ever since his life was saved by one of his slaves as a boy, the man had grown into a polar opposite of his father. Kind, compassionate, reasonable. _If he were of an Elephant family, he would not have had to wait for his father to die so that he could become a Triarch._ The toothless tiger's death was not mourned by many in truth.

"Welcome, triarchs.", another red priestess, different from the one who had come before them. "Welcome to the Red temple. Come, the Lord's Chosen awaits you." 

They followed her to a sizeable chamber, where she stood. Daenerys Targaryen. All the classic features of Valyrian beauty presented on her, purer than anyone else's. She was beautiful truly, but her face was a stone mask. Whatever else, they all were of the Old Blood here, so he began wondering who should speak first. All that was meaningless, when Maegyr presented them.

"Greetings, queen Daenerys of House Targaryen. My name is Elladio Maegyr, a representative of the Tiger party, and these are my fellows - Doniphos Paenymion and Alios Qhaedar of the Elephant party. We are the current Triarchs of Volantis, chosen by the people."

"Chosen by the free people, you mean?", she questioned. Truth be told, the voters were even fewer. 2 million people lived in Volantis and only about 300 000 of them were free, the rest slaves. And of the free, only land owners could actually vote, so that decreased the number even more. "You know me. You know who I am. I trust that the people elected to rule this city are aware."

"We are.", replied Doniphos. "May I ask, what are you doing in our fair city?"

"I died in Westeros.", she replied, some sadness visible in her eyes. "And I came back to life here."

"What are your intentions for the city?", Alios asked in turn.

"I plan on staying here. To live here. But I would like to abolish slavery."

"It is essential for our city.", Alios argued.

"Labor is essential for the city, I know. I did a mistake when I outright removed slavery in Meereen and basically left the city to misery. I will not repeat that mistake. But to sell people and own them. To torment them for the slightest mistake. To leave them unfed and butcher their children as lessons. I will not tolerate that.", she replied. "Listen now, I know that you know that I essentially hold the city hostage. The slaves outnumber the free people five to one. One word from me and the old blood will cease to exist for they shall slaughter you in your beds, on the streets and everywhere else. Fact is, my lords you are at my mercy."

"I agree. But what is it exactly that you are proposing?", Doniphos asked.

"Simple. Grant me legitimate power over this city. I shall rule as its queen. You and the old blood shall retain your offices in politics, but the former slaves shall also get a voice in their own government. The slaves as already mentioned will be freed. But instead of letting them kill you lot, they shall serve the city and its people still. Those that want that, that is. They shall be well compensated for their sufferings and future services. Fair wages, clothing, roof over their heads and three meals a day. IF any servant is hurt, the one who did the damage will suffer the same, unless proper reason is given. Even then, if a freedman commits a crime, they shall be judged in a fair trial, consisting of three judges - a freedman, an old blood and myself."

The terms seemed fair enough and his colleagues seemed to agree. Elladio was half-ready to kneel before her and Alios was relieved they were not going to be burned, as he had complained about on the way here.

"Crown me and I shall teach Volantis the true meaning of greatness. Crown me and we shall do what the city failed to achieve in the last three hundred years. Crown me and together we shall create a New Freehold and unite the Free cities in what they were always meant to be - the cradle of the greatest civilization the world has ever known."

She had a presence of a goddess. They knelt, for there was naught else to do after hearing such mighty words. 

"Hail, Daenerys Targaryen, Archon of the New Freehold and Queen of Volantis!"


	2. A new home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Dany settle in their new homes. Plural. Sorry, but it will be a while before they meet again.  
> A new dragon is hatched.  
> Dany meets her allies and announces her intentions.  
> I am going to try to post a second chapter today so that I finish with the introduction to the story, so to speak.

With an agreement reached, the red priestesses announced the end of hostilities. Daenerys herself made a speech, quite similar to the one she made in front of the triarchs only, after which they reaffirmed her sovereignty in front of the gathered crowds, people both slave and free. Now, all free. There were some hostility coming from some of the Old Blood in the beginning, but with the passing weeks, that started to die down. Daenerys was gifted her own palace to live in with her daughter behind the black walls. The palace of none other than Vhadar himself. The irony was not lost on her, but she was glad. She knew the place. Viserys and her had spent months here after all. It was a vast palace, one of the largest in Volantis, built in the fashion of Old Valyrian structures, albeit without towers. A huge complex of domed buildings, build from white marble and with a very large courtyard. Large enough for Drogon to sleep in easily. While she knew that her dragon could easily make his nest somewhere else, she preferred to keep him close. He was her last. Or at least for a little while longer.

She had all but forgotten the Volantene way of making friends - bribes. Including a beautiful dragon egg, golden and blue in color. She didn't really mind all that. They had expectations of her, but apart from them complying with her already stated demands, they could keep on living as they pleased. Provided they obeyed her. They were her subjects as well now. She accepted all of their gifts and put the egg in Rhaenys's cradle, in the old Targaryen tradition. She couldn't help but stare at it sometimes, waiting for it to hatch for her daughter. It would be lovely for her to have a dragon of her own. Her own protector.

The servants who lived there used to serve Vhadar, but it was rumored that they had killed the man and his son. Normally, she would turn them over to face justice, the few that had not escaped that is. However, she decided to let them live and leave, though some remained. Many knew no lives different from the ones of servitude, a lesson she learned in Meereen when that old scholar wanted to sell himself to his former master.

Behind the black walls, the only people allowed to enter were those who could prove an unbroken descent from Valyria. And well, she had that, more than most. Seven hells, as far as the world was concerned, she was the last true dragonlord in existence. It was a comfortable existence besides. Not much noise, even the atmosphere itself was nicer. The whole place was like a completely different city. 

Her city.

For now she ruled as its queen.

Truth be told, she had blackmailed the triarchs by holding the city hostage. In anticipation of her conquest, they even named her Archon of the New Freehold. She did intent to keep that promise, but not for the 'glory of Valyria'. It is for Rhaenys. An empire for her daughter. The Volantene were trying to make her one of their own. She appreciated the effort, but it is they who will become like her, given time.

As for the city leadership, she did keep the Triarchs, except from now on there will be a hereditary leader to oversee all of the Free cities - the head of House Targaryen of Volantis. Herself and her daughter after her. The triarchs themselves were interesting people and more important - ones she could work with. Doniphos is an opportunist and also the only one of the triarchs during the Second Siege of Meereen who stood against Volantis joining Yunkai's alliance. Elladio seemed like a nice person. Apparently, his big sister was married to Robb Stark, who claimed the title of King in the North during the War of the Five Kings. Alios was afraid of her. But all of them cared for the welfare of the city and to her that was what is important.

Today her allies were arriving in the city. Grey Worm had arrived earlier today; his ships were blocked from going to Naath and sent here where he swore his allegiance to her once more. 

"Forgive us for not avenging you, my queen."

"There is nothing to forgive. I live again."

"The Unsullied will always follow the Breaker of Chains.", he said as he knelt and she smiled. Finally back to her roots - a conqueror, liberator, a true queen.

"I thank you for your loyalty. Come, let me introduce you to someone.", she said as she led him towards her daughter's cradle. However, instead of seeing his look of surprise, he saw hers. Dany could only gawk when she saw the broken eggshells in the crib and an adorable dragon, tugging at Rhaenys's tiny body. _A new dragon. A dragon hatched for her daughter._

The dragon was tiny, even tinier that Rhaenys, but Dany knew who of the two would grow up faster. She picked him up gently, seeing how the little dragon would rather tug at her daughter. The newly hatched creature had mostly azure coloring of its scales with its belly and wings being golden. It was beautiful. _I will call it Missandor, after her._

She was so distracted by the sight that she barely noticed when Grey Worm said: "They will be protected, my queen."

As soon as news came that Yara Greyjoy and Daario had arrived, she went for the Palace of the Triarchs, where she ought to meet them. Alas, it was easier said than done. In Volantis, it was considered that people of substance should not have their feet touch the ground. That went doubly so for triarchs, let alone the queen she was. Riding on Drogon was agreed upon and she was glad, because she would never ride on top of an elephant a second time. Luckily, the plaza in front of the palace of the triarchs was large enough for Drogon to land, to the awe of the people. Having a dragon in the city certainly exited them, though she wondered which people were more impressed - the freedmen or the nobility.

The throne room was not one, per se. It was a very large, circle-shaped chamber, which could be separated into three major parts - the dais and the two galleries. The galleries were for the nobility, which were allowed to be present for court sessions, same as in Westeros, except here they could freely speak for and against decisions made by the rulers. There were two galleries - one for the members of the Tiger party and the other for those of the Elephant party. Truth be told, not all members of either party were nobles. Many were moneylenders, bankers, traders and so on. However, only those of the old blood were allowed to run for the office of a Triarch. Being the daughter of Aerys II and one with an indisputable claim to Valyria had finally come into real benefit for her. The Tigers favored the sword and the Elephants - trade. And yet, surprisingly enough, most of them favored her. Yes, there were several of those who grumbled against the abolition of slavery, but all of them could see the benefits in what she promised them - a new freehold. The Tigers saw in her a champion for their all but forgotten dreams of domination of the Free Cities, while the Elephants saw in her great opportunity to enrich the state, and themselves, which made them less hesitant to comply with her demands and installing her as their queen.

The dais was reserved for the three triarchs, each having a chair, but there was only one queen. A reconstruction of it was required. Now it had only a single throne, fashioned to look like she was sitting in the dragon's lap, with its snarling head roaring at whoever approached and its wings, shielding her sides. The whole thing was made of gold and gems, with ancient scenes from the Rhoynish wars being engraved upon it. It looked gaudy to her at first, but the old blood were not the only one who had to get used to things. _At least this one has a comfortable cushion and it was easy to sit on. Comfortable even. Easy to fool one into thinking that ruling is easy. Everyone but those who have actually ruled, meaning she is not._

The triarchs themselves were seated to the side, their thrones moved on the middle level of the dais, which was shaped like a half pyramid with three levels, each with five steps leading to the next.

She wished to carry the young dragon with her to show to the people but the little thing did not want to separate itself from her daughter. She couldn't blame him, for she felt the same, but it was not the place to bring her here. _Politics and family mustn't mix, I have learned my lesson._ So she had to settle with an announcement.

"Court is in session.", announced the...well...announcer. He was a boy of eighteen namedays, who apparently was of a Tiger family - Allion Vanerys. Dutiful, if not too eager to please. "All rise for her grace Daenerys of House Targaryen, First of Her Name, Archon of the New Freehold and Queen of Volantis, the Resurrected, the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons and Breaker of Chains.", they rose and bowed their heads, before sitting back into their seats.

She did not call herself Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea anymore. Grey Worm had told her that the ships that were supposed to ferry the Dothraki back to Essos fell upon a storm at sea. None survived. They might have been savage by everyone's standards but they were her people. She would miss them. The world will not.

Dany also abandoned her Westerosi titles. She wanted to carry them no more. Westeros was a land that brought only misery to her. They do not deserve her. And...well...maybe she does not deserve them either.

"Announcing Yara Greyjoy, Lady of the Iron Islands, and Daario Naharis, Captain of the Second sons." _Lady? Didn't I make her a queen?_

They bowed to her when they approached the throne, Yara spoke: "I thought you were dead. Everybody thought you were dead."

"What is dead may never die.", was her answer.

"But rises again, harder and stronger. Aye, we tend to say that quite often on the Iron Islands, but it seems to me that you are the first person to actually prove those words true." _Second actually._

"Forgive me, but last time I saw you, you were a queen."

"Aye, until the so-called Great Council. The Imp played another trick and the war-weary lot elected that Stark cripple as king. Bran the Broken they call him. Can you imagine?", her laughter, as well as that of many of those present, was one of mockery. "They refused me, even though the Stark boy granted his sister independence."

"WHAT?", she was fuming. "Those fucking Starks stole the throne? That wretched boy and his bitch sister?", she could barely contain her ire. "And what prey tell was the fate of my killer?"

"Exiled to the Night's watch. The Starks and their friends and allies would have rather made him king, but with your Unsullied and the Dothraki still there, apparently they had the sense to actually give him some punishment for regicide.", was her response. 

"And what of you, Daario? How fares you and the bay of dragons?"

"It is quite boring without you, silver queen. There was some noise soon after you left, but those who did it met their end. Each of the cities of the Bay of Dragons has established its own ruling council, each having an even number of former slaves and former masters. The Councils of Formers is what they call themselves." _Or what you call them anyways._ "Give me leave and I shall raise an army to avenge you upon the Westerosi."

Murmurs of agreement began to spread through the Volantene court with many men seemingly trying to outbid each other on who will contribute how much. But she will have none of that. Dany motioned to Allion and he called for silence.

"I thank you my friends. However, I have no desire to ever return to Westeros. That land has brought me naught but misery. I am beginning to understand why the Valyrians of old left it unconquered. However, you are still my ally and I have a promise to keep. Which is why I would ask my Triarchs to help me forge a treaty I would offer to the Sunset Kingdoms."

"A treaty?", Daario asked.

"Yes. They will bother me no more and I shall ignore them. My wars in Westeros are over. I have no desire whatsoever to reacquaint myself with that land. All trade between the free cities and Westeros shall not be affected, regardless of who owns which city. In return for sparing their miserable hides, they shall also formally recognize the independence of the Iron Islands and its alliance with the New Freehold. Each to our own end of the Narrow sea. I hope that I can count on you to act as my messengers.", they nodded. "I shall have two separate treaties made - one for the Queen in the North and one for the King in King's Landing and whoever is his hand."

"Tyrion Lannister.", Yara said through her teeth.

"Of course. I should have known that dwarf would always manage to survive. He is like a cockroach.", that elicited laughter from those present. "Tell them that if they refuse, well, I still have Drogon. They saw what I did to King's Landing and I could do the same to it again. And Yara", she turned towards her Ironborn friend "If you would be so kind as to inform the Wolf-whore of Winterfell, that scheming snake, that if she tries anything against me, I will turn that frigid wasteland she calls home into a land of ashes and broken bones."

She smirked. "It would be my pleasure."

"And Daario, please inform the Imp that if I even smell a single plot against me, I will make him meet the same fate as his wretched siblings."

"With pleasure. But what of you, Daenerys Stormborn? What shall you be doing?"

Daenerys rose from her throne. "From here to Ibb and from Pentos to the Bay of Dragons, I shall forge a new freehold. A new Valyrian realm that shall last for thousands of years.", the audience erupted in thunderous applause. "That is what I will leave for our children and out children's children. For my daughter, Rhaenys to inherit."

"What?", Yara and Daario looked at her oddly.

"I invite you to dine with me tonight. And I shall introduce you to the Princess of the Rhoyne."

* * *

The North was a harsh land. During Winter, hundreds and even thousands died. It was only natural. The weak die and the strong survive. In the end, winter is not an enemy you can even fight, just like starvation and the cold. But winter ended. Somehow, probably because of the death of the Night king or something else, spring began. Grass started to sprout from beneath the thick blankets of snow, which cover the earth. The snows slowly melt, the blizzards become rarer. Still, even though that is true, living beyond the Wall was difficult, but they would manage. The Free folk is a hardy people, who have lived in this land for thousands of years. Ironically, they did not want to stay south of it. 

If you ask them why, they would say that it is simply not home. The people living south of the Wall, especially in the new Kingdom of the North, hated the Free folk. Unsurprisingly, they were hostile towards anyone who wasn't from the North. Whether these people had come to save their miserable hides. And here he was. Their savior. The man who killed the love of his life so as to save theirs. To save the realm. But did the realm really deserve saving?

 _Ask me again in ten years._ The dwarf had said. Well, Jon Snow will ask you that. And possibly kill you this time.

Born the bastard of Winterfell, then lord commander of the Night's watch, then king in the North, then rightful king of Westeros and now....oath breaker, queenslayer, kinslayer, man without honor. 

That is what he has become. Whether Ned Stark or Rheagar Targaryen, both of his fathers would be ashamed of him. Would Rhaegar be rolling in his grave, when he saw the son, he had risked the realm for, kill his little sister? Would Ned Stark curse him for having raised a kinslayer, a creature most damned in the eyes of the gods? Any gods.

 _She burned a city._ His consciousness kept repeating to him. _She would have killed your siblings, you had no choice. It was either your duty or love._

And why did he choose duty again? Why? After all that he had suffered to save this shitty realm that seems keen on damning itself again and again. And why risk It all for his 'siblings' or cousins rather. Sansa had betrayed him. Broken her vow to him, probably because she schemed to take the Northern crown. Which maybe true, for in the end she did get it. _She would be a good queen._ His consciousness repeated.

 _She is the smartest person, I know._ Arya's voice repeated itself in his head. _But how many smart people do you know, Arya?_ The only member of his Stark family he liked. The little girl, who turned into a ruthless murderer. She looked shocked when she was at King's Landing during the fires. The woman who had butchered an entire family and had the stomach to cook two of them into pies, like in her favorite tale, did not have the stomach to watch people burn? _Good to know, she has limits._

And Bran. Oh, sorry. King Bran the Broken. A more ridiculous title Tyrion couldn't give him. What does Bran know of ruling? Or Tyrion for that matter? Bran, who knows everything and yet failed to warn them of Euron Greyjoy's ambush at Dragonstone and Dany's suffering descent to madness.

 _You should have killed them all, Jon Snow._ The apparition that took the form of Ygritte told him. She had been haunting him ever since Jon led the Wildings beyond the wall to settle back into Hardhome. _Another woman who dies in your arms. Are you making a habit of it, Jon Snow?_

He was helping with the repairs on the houses they were all going to live in. Hammering nails into planks harder and harder at her words. _So...another dead lover. You bring us over the top, make us fall madly in love with you and then you abandon us. And get us killed. At least this one you had the balls to kill yourself._ He hit the nail again and again until he hit his thumb.

"Fuck." 

_Awww, poor Jon Snow. Did it hurt? I sure hope so. An arrow to the heart hurts like hell, though I imagine that being embraced like a lover, told you were loved and then stabbed in the heart hurts infinitely more._

He left whatever he was doing and ran into the forest nearby. He needed to scream.

"Fine. I was wrong. I shouldn't have done it. I shouldn't have done it. I had to stand by her side. She was....the only one....who ever accepted me for who I am. The only one."

 _Well, well, well. It looks like you finally know something, Jon Snow. You never gave a shit about that southron city. And the family you protected died long before you did for the first time. So....why did you kill her?_ She smirked at him. _For nothing. Another heart broken at the hands of Jon Snow._

"What the fuck am I supposed to do?"

_Well, she is dead. And so am I. So...suffer, Jon Snow. Stop pretending like you did the realm a great service. Those kneelers will find a reason to start killing each other again, just give them time. But you...suffer for your sins, Jon Snow._

She vanished into the snows, leaving him all alone to cry his tears in the cold ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP Dothraki. Sorry, but it had to be done. I never really liked them, they are just not suited for peace. Plus I had no need for them.  
> Just like there was a Prince of Dragonstone, I thought that the crown princess of the new freehold would need a specific title so why not Princess of the Rhoyne.  
> I know that her not exacting revenge on Westeros sounds strange, but I wanted to let the events on the two ends of the Narrow sea develop without outside interference. Plus, Westeros will have its own problems soon enough. You will see.  
> And Jon has his own internal crisis.


	3. Deal with the dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion Lannister and Sansa Stark receive visitors and the past comes back to haunt them.

_I hate you, Tyrion Lannister for being such an idiot._ How he could arrange for Bronn to be appointed as lord of HIghgarden? It was such a stupid move. Of course that the lords of the Reach, who did not even get a voice at the Great council, would be rebelling. And what was he supposed to do when Bronn was on the small council? Hope for him to drop dead? If only...the man is a cockroach, too good at surviving.

"Those fuckers ain't taking me castle. Ya gave it to me, I am keeping it. I fucking earned it." For services rendered to House Lannister, Tyrion doubted the reachmen would care. Giving him the seat of the lord paramount, how could he do that, he would never know. 

It has been three months since the coronation of Bran the Broken, the first ever elected Lord of the Six kingdoms. Six being the key word for the North was now independent and the iron islands wish to join in. Tyrion refused her once, but soon enough that won't matter. The king had no armies to enforce his will. His cousin, ser Daven Lannister had been Warden of the West since the death of his father and knowing how hated Tyrion was in his homeland for the murder of his own father, he had to concede to his cousin's demand for Tyrion to relinquish his claims to the West and recognize Daven as Lord of Casterly Rock and Lord Paramount of the Westerlands. Now Tyrion was just the Hand of the King. A king with no armies to enforce his will upon the lords. The only fealty he had was that of the lords of the Crownlands, who have already lost plenty of men with Joffrey's wars. 

Lord Paxter Redwyne had pressed his nephew's rights to Highgarden. Young ser Jasper Redwyne was married to young Elinor Tyrell, one of the late queen Margaery's cousins. He was the man with the closest ties to Highgarden and Redwyne had the men to put him there. Tyrion no longer had access to an experienced spymaster, but according to hearsay accounts, lord Paxter, backed by lord Hightower, has raised an army of 30 000 men to defend his nephew's rights.

_Appinting Bronn as lord of Highgarden put me into some deep shit. I could count on Bronn as an ally, but he has no chance against this._

His friend had support from only some minor houses, whose seats Tyrion didn't even know on a map.

"My lord hand, lord Bronn could raise his own levies to fight against the Redwyne rebels.", said lord Royce, master of war appointed by him so that he could get the loyalty of the Vale. "We could supply him with men from the Crownlands and some of my own men."

_After the battle against the dead, lord Royce was left with only about 1000 men. The Crownlands can offer no more than some 8000 men, but Tyrion is not stupid enough to commit more than half of them. None would be seen as betrayal to him._

"They would be put to use. I will keep my castle.", Bronn stated. _As if._ His Reach supporters will never be able to rally more than 10 000 men, and that was if he was being generous. He will never be able to rally more than half of what his enemies had. Even if it were not a single battle, it would still be difficult.

But what was Tyrion supposed to do? The Reachmen never formally recognized Bran as king and everybody hates kinslayers and traitors, crimes of which he was actually guilty so much so that people might even forget he is a dwarf.

"I will ride out with my men as soon as they arrive, it won't be a single battle but I will win." Good luck.

The annoying conversation was interrupted when ser Podrick entered the small council chambers. "My lords, you have a visitor. Lady Yara Greyjoy of Pyke. She demands an audience with the king and the lord hand."

Out of the frying pan and into the fire. Great. "Let her in. The rest of you leave. Lord Tyrion remains.", the king spoke for the first time since the beginning of the day. The members of the small council hurried to leave and lady Yara entered.

"My lady, good of you to visit us again. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Spare me the small talk my lord. I am here as a messenger. To deliver a treaty from an old friend of ours."

"So it is true then?", the king spoke again.

"Who?", he asked as he drank again from his goblet.

"Daenerys Targaryen." 

Tyrion choked on his wine so hard, for a moment he thought he would choke to death. "Impossible. She died."

"What is dead may never die, imp. She lives. Here", she gave him two parchments. "her words will speak better than mine."

He scanned the documents. Both of them were the same, treaties. Essentially, they spoke of mutual ignorance of each other and that she won't seek vengeance. "Is this a joke? If she lives again, then how come she hasn't burned us to ashes?"

"Who knows. All she says is that she is tired of this shitty land and its ungrateful fucks. She will let you lot be and will not harass you economically in exchange you will leave her alone. No plots, or else..."

"Fire and blood.", he said as he read the respective paragraph of the treaty titled 'The Narrow Sea treaty' "So...this is for real?"

"I felt a strange energy being released from Volantis but I cannot look there due to the powerful presence of the Lord of Light. That same energy I felt when Jon was resurrected. She lives." king Bran said, his face impassive. "We accept."

"Your Grace...."

"If she planned to kill us all, don't you think she would have done so by now? She took this city with but a single dragon.", he stated matter-of-factly and Tyrion knew that he was not wrong. "This treaty seems favorable to the realm, doesn't it, my lord hand?"

"Just a few months after death and now she has taken another city.", he mumbled to himself. "She will keep to this, yes?"

"She will. Lucky you, she thinks that invading Westeros twice is not worth it." _First time ever for him to be happy about not being appreciated._ "There is one condition though. Jon Snow will not know of her survival. She sees him in Volantis, she will ask you why her murderer is there. Or rather Drogon will do the asking."

"Jon Snow is beyond the Wall on a self-exile from even the Night watch. He is separated from civilization, there is no one to tell him." _I hope I am telling the truth._ "And what else?"

"Oh, yes. Just one thing. The Iron Islands are an independent kingdom, allied with the New Freehold, headed by Daenerys Targaryen. Do you understand that?"

"I do. Congratulations, queen Yara Greyjoy. Long may you reign.", Tyrion said through his teeth and poured himself another glass, while the king signed the documents and the Imp waited to put his own mark to it as well.

_This day is just perfect._

* * *

The Queen in the North. People were chanting that a whole day during the coronation. And the day after, they had another chant - _Whom will you marry, your Grace?_

Each of the lords of the North offered her children and nephews of an age not too far from hers. All of them wanted influence over the crown of the North. As much as Sansa dreaded the notion of marrying again, she knew she would have to. Jon was exiled, Arya was probably dead at sea or somewhere far away from here. Regardless, she would never willingly take the throne and she is unlikely to marry someone and have lawful children of her own. And Bran can't have kids. IF she didn't do her duty and have children to inherit, the Independence of the North dies with her.

It took her a while but eventually she decided to go along with it. She spent two months to filter information on each of her offers and eventually she came to the best match - ser Willem Manderly, youngest son of lord Wyman of White Harbor. Going into the marriage was not easy for her, but she did it. He wasn't a monster. Wasn't all that handsome but was certainly not ugly. He was also kind, or at least pretended to be. A whole month after the wedding. She still did not trust him completely, but she would have to if they are to be married.

Still, Sansa hoped to have a child soon so that she could remove the constant burden of an heir and she cared not if it were a boy or a girl. As the first ruling queen in the history of the North, she could well give birth to the second one. The lords wouldn't complain. And if they did...to quote her sister...fuck them.

"My queen.", maester Wolkan entered. "You have a visitor who requires an immediate audience with you."

"Which lord is that?"

"It is not a lord, but a sellsword."

"What would a sellsword want with me?"

"He says he comes bearing most important message for you."

"Fine, let him in." She had guards, she feared not some sellsword. Willem was not here though. He was off to negotiate a grain deal with her cousin lord Robin of the Eyrie. She always loathed the man, before and after he acquired a spine, but we do need the grain. Spring might be here but the snows won't completely melt for months, maybe a year or two so they did need more grain to refill their empty stores. She and this whole raped and abused kingdom of hers.

A man entered. He was not of Westeros, that's for certain. According to the Maester, his men carried a flag with a broken sword, which was the banner of the Second Sons, a mercenary company from Essos.

"We have no need of sellswords, ser.", she stated immediately.

"Oh, I am not for hire, Sansa of House Stark. I merely bring you a message from my mistress." Did some lady hire him for something? He handed her a sealed scroll, which bore a seal that chilled her blood. A dragon with three heads. _No, no, no........what the seven hells is this???_

She unfurled it and read through it, the words both terrifying and calming her. Her heart was about to explode with fear, anger and hate. Daenerys Targaryen lives. By some miracle from that cruel eastern god of fire. Her brother lost his honor and broke his heart for nothing. He killed her for nothing. And rules the Free city of Volantis. _Free no longer._ It was a non-aggression pact between the Kingdom of the North and Daenerys's kingdoms. 

All of Sansa's plans and dreams of getting rid of the dragon queen were for nothing.

"Frustrating, isn't it? But did you truly think that the likes of you, shitty Westerosi can end the Mother of Dragons?", his mocking tone was not at all to her liking.

"So, essentially she will let us live in peace?"

"Yes, queen Daenerys wants nothing to do whatsoever with Westeros. And that bastard brother of yours" _the rightful king rather, but that was a secret that no longer mattered._ "is to stay away from her. Keep him here, in your frosty kingdom. She sees any threat originating from Westeros and there will be nothing but ashes left of your kingdom, are we clear?"

Sansa was never going to tell him anyway. If Jon learned of her living, he would rush for her and she would kill him. It didn't matter whether or nor they loved each other before, he killed her. It was for his own good. To stay away from her and live his life free in the lands beyond the Wall. 

_And he could have been a great king, if he wanted to. Instead he chose misery, even after the Dothraki and Unsullied left Westerosi shores. Are the men of my family all so stupid?_

As pained as Sansa was to basically admit defeat, she had to sign this. Daenerys Targaryen would once again be just a curiousity on the other end of the world and she would still be rid of her presence here. Sansa would remain queen of an independent North. That is all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the beginning is out of the way.  
> Next chapter - The Young are introduced. And Daenerys begins her conquest.


	4. Peace? What is that?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys begins her conquests and a common soldier finds a calling

The documents were returned. Signed. It was done. Westeros was behind her. The past was behind her. That is all that she wanted from that place - to leave her alone to raise her daughter in peace. Knowing Westeros, they would most likely start another war soon enough for some reason or another. According to the information Yara supplied her with, Westeros was hardly stable. Maybe just in the first weeks of the reign of Bran the Broken. _If you want a king to be successful, maybe you shouldn't call him the Broken._

The North was ruled by that bitch Sansa, who apparently the Northern lords and her duty had forced her to marry someone. Hopefully, a typical Northerner - ugly, prejudiced, stinking savage. 

The Westerlands were ruled by a cousin of Tyrion who forced him to relinquish the land to him. _Even your own people despise you, Tyrion._

The Riverlands are a still burned out husk, still recovering. Yara said that its lord had even tried to nominate himself as king but Sansa had silenced and humiliated him. _So much for family._

The Vale was swinging between North and South, but Lord Royce was made master of war to keep the region tethered to the ~~Seven~~ Six kingdoms. _Disunited before even day one of his reign. A marvelous start, king Bran, lord Tyrion._

The Stormlands went to lord Gendry. At least they had kept the boy to his rightful seat. He seemed a good man, which is why she legitimized him. _Also because she wanted to gain some attention from the people she had saved just the day before. Fucking ungrateful savages._

The Iron Islands have finally gotten their independence and Dorne might soon follow.

And the Reach was the worst. For some reason, beyond Dany's understanding, Tyrion had named some random sellsword, lord of Highgarden. And now, quite predictably, the lords of the Reach are in rebellion. Raised an army to take Highgarden for a worthier claimant. _Yes, fight like the jackals you are._

Soon enough, Westeros is going to bleed again. And Dany would just sit here and enjoy the show. Well, she would conquer a city. Or eight rather.

The preparations were going well. Volantis had an active fleet of over one thousand ships. Troop numbers were difficult to ascertain. There were the 4000 Unsullied and the army of Volantis consisted of 15 000 men, all trained and well equipped. That is not counting the Tiger cloaks, the city watch. Those numbers could be bolstered through conscription and mercenaries. The former option alone could well double the standing army of the city. She won't leave the city defenseless though. It had to be protected at all times. 

Dany had access to many volunteers from the freedmen of Volantis and from the cities of the Bay of Dragons. By her estimation, she could well double the numbers. And of course, there was Drogon - the greatest military asset she has. Her eldest and last of her dragon children had grown so large that he could cover most of the city beneath his shadow, if he flew at a certain height. 

Dany rose from her bed, naked as her nameday, and approached the map on the desk. It was a map of both Westeros and Essos, spanning as far North as the Wall, south to the Summer Islands and Northern Sothoryos, west to the Iron Islands and east to the Shadow lands. It was the largest map of the known world ever made by the famed explorer dragonlord Jaenara Belaerys, who flew across all that land on the back of her dragon Terrax. Her maps and copies were kept exclusively by the few free cities who had them as treasures for there simply isn't another map so well detailed and so vast. But she didn't need all of that. She would have been satisfied with just the free cities for now. Yet, when she requested a map from Allion, the boy delivered this. She couldn't well tell him to bring her another. 

Her nail traced between Volantis and each of the Free cities. _I will create a network of trade and prosperity. I will bind all the Free cities to myself and turn them into something truly great, not just a bunch of petty city-states._ For all of the Old blood's prancing about Westeros being a land of savages, at least those savages had managed some form of unity. As fleeting as it was. 

Where should she start?

The conquest itself won't be difficult. The advantages of a dragon are all that she needs to take a city, as she discovered in Westeros. Complex strategies are not that much of a necessity. It is holding the cities until they get used to the change that would be difficult. Each of the cities will fall. The closest to Volantis was Lys. It was on an island so its isolation would make help arriving difficult. Then, its rival cities - Myr and Tyrosh. Then the rest. The last time Volantis attempted what she was planning, they almost succeeded. The only reason they failed was because of Braavos, some Storm King and her own ancestor. The Conqueror didn't want to have a powerful neighbor to his future Westerosi empire so he backed the freedom fighters. Clever, she had to admit. But now it was the opposite. The Free cities had no one to turn to, but themselves. And Braavos, well...she had special plans for Braavos.

Dany turned around and looked at her bed. Upon it lay Bellegere Otherys, a courtesan of Targaryen descent from Braavos, allegedly requested by the Sea lord to serve as an emissary to the court of the Dragon Queen, a 'likeminded liberator and protector of the enslaved'. _Where was that attitude when she was fighting in Slaver's bay? Where was that attitude when the Iron Bank was throwing its support behind Cersei fucking Lannister of all people? That tyrannical bitch._ The memory of Tyrion's face when he had learned of Cersei and the Kingslayer fool's deaths was something that put a smile to her face. Priceless. Truly.

She returned to Bellegere, or Belle for short. They got on first name basis within the span of days of her arrival and the beautiful seductress had managed to find her way inside Dany's bed within the following weeks. Naturally, she couldn't just be seduced by a pretty face and was surprised when the woman had begun to seduce her, but Dany enjoyed it. It had been a while since the last time someone seduced her and let her think that she was wrapped around her finger. Dany never let her anywhere near any important documents and the guards had strict instructions not to let her anywhere near Rhaenys without Daenerys's explicit permission. And Dany had no fear of sleeping with her. Even if Dany did not have guards just outside the door and a dragon, sleeping in the courtyard, she had grown used to reading people. As good as she was at masking her intentions, Bellegere was no killer. A spy, sure. But not killer. 

But my, those tights, the light brown skin, black hair and full breasts. Dany knew of the duels that happened on Braavosi streets for the honor and beauty of the courtesans and the legendary Black Pearl must have had many fight in her name. Daenerys relished the challenge of making that gorgeous woman forget about the city of her birth and become hers. _Does that make me evil?_ She hoped not. Dany had grown attached to the woman and needed something to forget him. She would not even mention his name. She wouldn't even think it. For despite everything, whenever she looked at little Rhaenys, she was reminder of her northern fool. The man who killed her. The man who gave her a child, after she thought she was barren for years and House Targaryen will die with her. The man....she still loves.

That was one of the reasons why she refused to let Jon learn of her living still. She would meet him again and might fall into the same trap, him killing her and taking all she held dear. _No one will take my daugher from me. NO ONE!!!!_

The sheets began to move and a pair of beautiful orange eyes opened. "Good morning, your Radiance. I dare say that seeing you like this, you truly deserve that title." _Barely woke up and already seducing me. That is what I call a professional._

"Good morning to you, too.", she crawled back into bed. "My Black Pearl."

"Yours? Since when?", she asked, a feigned shock portrayed on her face.

"Since you began seducing me. I am afraid I am a very possessive woman." Dany played along. This game was truly refreshing.

"Ahh, I am maiden from the stories, captured by the wicked dragon."

"I wouldn't say wicked."

"Says the woman who burned an entire city.", the playfullness was still there but Dany felt a slight change.

"That was brought about by other things than cruelty.", she responded, laying her head on Belle's chest. "Grief, sadness, anger, rejection, loss....take your pick."

"The world of men will never understand just how dangerous it is to break a woman's heart."

"You don't judge?", she questioned.

"I don't know anyone from King's Landing. I have never been to King's Landing. All I know of it is that the city stinks of shit from miles away. If you had to burn a city at least it was one like that. In fact,", she sat on the bed and looked straight into Dany's eyes, her head still in Belle's lap "I know of a blind sailor who says that he could recognize cities by their smell. According to him, King's Landing reeked of an unwashed whore. At least in Braavos, nobody cries over unwashed whores.", Dany stayed silent. She was honest. "Tragedies happen all over the world, for allegedly good reasons and bad. Commited by both evil and good people. I dare say that for the time we have had together, I have come to believe that a woman like you would never burn a city to the ground for no reason. You are many things, Daenerys Stormborn, but you are not cruel for the sake of cruelty."

"Thank you. I....needed to hear this."

"I am a courtesan. I tell people what they need to hear for a living. And it is true."

"Aha..."

"You are a mother with a child, trying to move on from her dark past. I have known many like that."

"Did they also have dragons and whole cities to rule?"

"No. Can't say that they did. Would you like me to stay more?"

"I am afraid I have to get dressed.", Dany said and rang the bell for the servants to come. "I have to hold court. You might want to attend."

"Why? I am but a humble emissary." _Hardly humble, but alright._

"I am going to announce the beginning of my conquest of Valyria's wayward daughters. Beginning with Lys." _Bellegere Otherys was a book, Dany has yet to fully read but one thing was certain. She was one that Daenerys Targaryen wanted for herself._

* * *

Lester was born in the Reach, in a village on the lands of Lord Hightower. Not Oldtown. His family was too poor to afford to live in the city, they were simple farmers. Barely in his nineteenth year, Lester has never seen war before. His grandfather had fought in the so-called 'War of the Ninepenny Kings', but even his father hadn't fought. Thanks to lord Hightower's refusal to participate in wars ever since Robert's rebellion, he hadn't had to fight. To don armor, or rather a helmet and breastplate emblazoned with the burning tower of the Lords of Oldtown. A spear was thrust in his right hand, a shield in the other, a longsword hung on his belt. His old grandfather had shown him how to use all that. _Adequate,_ he had said. His father had a bad leg so he couldn't fight. His old grandfather and his mother weren't an option either. Nor were his sisters. So, when the recruiting agent came, Lester was the only member of their family who could go. _Go make us proud, son._

 _Yeah, I would rather not, thank you very much._ Not that his wishes mattered. Why fight for that noble or this? It made no sense to him. He didn't know any of them. The enemy was some Lannister sellsword, who the new king had made lord of Highgarden. That did anger him. If they had to bow to someone, let that be a man of the Reach, a man of nobility, not some sellsword, who used to serve that wretched lion family.

And now here he was, having the great honor of holding the banner of the rightful lord of the Reach, ser Jasper Redwyne. The flag was quartered - two red grapes on purple and two golden roses on green. The sigils of both his house and his wife's house. The men against them were the sellsword himself and his lackeys. Lord Bronn Blackwater's sigil was a single flaming arrow. _Grapes are delicious, roses smell nice and girls like them and flaming arrows everybody hates. Easy to remember._

"Are you going to surrender, ser? We outnumber you two to one. You have no chance to win. Your raid on our camp in the midst of the night was not only dishonorable but also a failure. You are beat. Surrender and we will let you live and join the Night's watch.", spoke one of the sons of lord Hightower and his direct commander, ser Garth 'Greysteel' Hightower. Lester still remembered how his tent almost caught fire in the middle of the night. "Relinquish the castle you have no right to."

"No right to? Ha. I got the bloody castle as a reward for my services. I am also loyal to the king. And isn't it the way of all great houses to start with a single cutthroat?", questioned the sellsword lord.

"Don't mock us, ser. That king is no king of ours. He was chosen, they say. Well, I say - not by the people of the Reach. Some northern boy, brother of the Queen in the North. He gave his own sister independence. And his hand is another damn Lannister. A man who killed his own father, poisoned a king and betrayed the queen he swore himself to. The Reach had sworn for Daenerys Targaryen, while the Tarly traitors and you were pillaging our lands for the Lannister usurper.", ser Jasper spoke. 

"This is treason." one of the men from lord Bronn's entourage spoke.

"Everything anyone does this days is treason.", dismissed him ser Garth. "Surrender, sellsword and you may yet live through this."

"Never."

And so the parley ended with no results as expected. One of the older men, Lester found himself attached to, had japed that a parley resulting in peace was as rare as a mermaid. Lester himself was just disgusted with all this. Thousands of men sent matching all because some man, lucky enough to be born into the right family, happened to want a better home. His father ain't marching men to get the neighbor's deeper well.

The battle itself was bloody. There was no denying that. Lester had some difficulty recognizing ally from foe, because their armors were too similar to his own. Lester needed to get closer to them to recognize the sigil. He tossed his spear and prayed to have hit an enemy. Lester swung his sword at people wearing the flaming arrow. He even managed to kill some men. Three, if he was not wrong. He managed to kill three people before an arrow got lodged in his shoulder and he fell on his back.

His screams went unheard while men trampled him. The only reason he was still conscious was because of his shield. His grandfather's shield was made of solid steel and was long enough to cover much of his body, so he managed to hide himself beneath it. His head being most important. "I don't want to die here. I don't want to die here. I don't want to die here.", he kept muttering, almost like a mantra.

It may have been minutes, or hours, or days. But it didn't matter. in the end the shouting, screaming and clanging of swords ended. 

Lester lied on the ground, too tired to stand up. Unwilling also. His whole body hurt all over. He could barely register feeling in his arms. So, he just lied there and listened to the Silent Sisters going over the dead and septons and maesters checking on the people to see who needs to attending and who needs a grave. He didn't care who won, but given the difference in numbers it had to be lord Redwyne. The shouting in the background he heard confirmed that. Some idiot was running around with what appeared to be the ugly head of lord Bronn, stuck on his spear's tip. 

_Hurry up, damn you. Give me something for the pain._

"Here.", a voice came over to him, but he could not yet see its origin. A vial came to his mouth. "It is Milk of the poppy. It will dull the pain." Lester swallowed It and indeed the pain started to vanish. The man gave him a hand and helped him to his feet. He was a powerful looking man with a light brown beard covering his face. He was probably twice Lester's age. He wore armor, same as him, but his was better. It was full armor with another sigil. A skull with two coins in his eyes and a crown on its head and two swords piercing it from four sides.

"Thank you, ser."

"No problem, lad. I saw you during the battle getting hit by an arrow, but you were far away. Sorry, it took me so long to locate you, but this field is a mess. You fought well." Lester looked around and indeed it was a mess. Corpses were littered all over the small valley, the battle took place. 

"Yes and for what? So that this guy can run around with a head stuck on a stick.", Lester pointed to the man he noticed earlier. His anger was bubbling. "Or so that guy can get another castle. We are just pawns of the Highborn in their game of thrones."

"And would you like to do something about that?", the man asked, his eyes were different. Before they were of a kind and caring man, but now they were those of a man with determination. "I am asking if you would want to change things?"

"Of course I would. But, who are you?"

"The name my mother gave me was Jack. One day, my mother, a humble chandler's daughter, went to the castle of House Florent to present me to my father and for him to take care of his bastard. He laughed in her face, gave her a small pouch of gold and told her to fuck off. Since that day, I have been Jack Flowers. I added the 'Ser' bit 9 years ago. I won my armor at a tourney and became a knight, when another hedge knight made me one. Some call me "the Bastard of Brightwater keep", but I don't give a damn about my dead highborn noble family or their castle."

"My name is Lester, a farmer's son.", he introduced himself. That man had a better story than most so why was he complaining?! 

"Well, Lester, would you like to join my men? We are all like you and me - people who are done suffering under despots. There are thousands of us already. All over the country and we are becoming more and more each passing day. My dream is to live in a world where there are neither lords nor kings. What say you? Do you share my dream?"

"Yes. I will join you." _Finally something worth spilling blood for._

"Good to hear, brother Lester. Welcome to the Young."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to write in Bellegere Otherys, aka the Black Pearl, to make things more interesting. More...spicy. She won't be a villain though, but is going to have a huge part in getting Jon and Dany back together, so don't dislike her, please. She is going to be an interesting addition to my character rooster. Plus, I said that Jon is the only MAN she will ever love, not the only person. ;)  
> And what do you think of the Young so far? That recruiter is also the local leader. I am going to explain more about them in the coming chapters.


	5. Lys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Conquest of Lys

Elladio thought himself good at cyvasse, maybe not as good as his mother was and certainly not as good as his late sister, but he was certainly better than Ornell Vanerys. A fellow Tiger and his uncle by virtue of being married to his father's sister, he was the first man to support Elladio's bid for triarch. They were currently sitting in a lounge in the Tiger's den. That was an establishment within the black walls where the members of the Tiger party gathered to discuss politics. These days though things were quite exciting. The declaration of the eminent conquest of Lys and the other free cities and reestablishment of the Freehold made the Tigers happy. Beyond that. 

At first, there was arguments that neither Volantis nor Valyria have ever been ruled by a hereditary monarch. The fact that the triarchs gave her the title of the elected ruler of the freehold of old did not change this fact. The fact that her heir will be raised behind the black walls certainly went a long way to making her one of them. Her having dragons was also very important and many nobles argued that as the last true dragonlord they owed her obedience. Others were skeptical because of her hatred of slavery. To counter that, she had stated that slavery was a disease spread by the then recently conquered Old Empire of Ghis, which over time corrupted the Valyrians of old and made them complacent and weak and eventually led to the collapse of Valyria, which before then did not have slavery.

It was hard to counter that argument. Though was having servants much different? Truth be told, Elladio knew that there was a huge difference between having people working for you and people who were your property. Back in his youth, he was rescued from drowning in the Rhoyne by a slave who, for touching a noble like him without permission, ought to have lost his life. That did not happen because both his sister and he did not spoke of the incident, but this event left a profound mark on his life. There were no slaves in Volantis now, but servants and free workers. People who did the same job, without any abuse or humiliation, and got paid for it. While there are still those who grumble about having to pay to their slaves, such people got fewer and fewer as the weeks and months passed. _They will get used to it. Man is an adaptable beast._

Her stance on restoring the Freehold endeared her to both parties, but the Tigers most of all. While the Elephants were beyond exhilarated about the opportunity to expand the economy of the city and their own personal fortunes, the Tigers were different. Ever since the Century of Blood, the Tigers were treated like antiques, except for the rare times when they had to defend their borders. The Elephants held the true power and there were often times when not even a single Tiger was elected to hold office. Now, under queen Daenerys's reign, they have taken back the respect they were owed. Now, they were useful once more. Now, they could regain the honor lost over three hundred years ago. It was a new time and it was obvious that people have not been as interested in politics before. 

The plans for the invasion of Lys were discussed at length and even now the ships of Volantis sailed alongside Ironborn sails towards the coasts of Lys.

"I must say that I do not approve of the Braavosi's presence here, nephew." Not just him. Truth be told, the Braavosi emissary's presence was really welcome, especially given the fact that one day, their fleet would be sailing into the thousand isles of Braavos. "And why does the queen trust her so much?"

"She doesn't trust her. Keeps her close more like."

"Too close, in my view." There were already rumors that the queen had taken the famous courtesan to bed. Nobody would have cared for that, except for the fact that the woman was a potential spy. 

"It is no threat for now. It will be years before the queen takes on Braavos, she intends to leave it for last. She would rather establish firm control over each city, before moving on to the next."

"A wise decision. The real problem last time was that whatever control was established was brittle. Mostly, just bribing the magisters."

"True. Besides, if the queen wants to keep her, why not? The Black Pearl makes her smile more often and as far as I see it, she hasn't changed her purpose or showered the woman with expensive gifts like many others do." _Like several members of the Elephants, who no doubt wanted to use her. Not for desires of the flesh though, as I know that she has connections to powerful people all over the Free cities and even the Sealord, who happens to be her cousin. Having a woman like that as an ally would make Her Grace's plans much easier._

"I suppose. Let's return to the invasion. When will the fleet be arriving. By my estimation, it should get there within two weeks, no?" The Volantene fleet left for Lys two days ago and now the whole city was noisy with expectations.

"Closer to one and a half actually, but it all depends on the weather. The queen will be flying over with her dragon. And Paenymion has cut a deal with the sell-sail Saladhor Saan to switch sides mid-battle."

"Oh, that will give us thirty more ships. How are the odds though?"

"Well, in total we have managed to amass a force of 30 000 men and over 1000 ships. Against some 400 ships and Lysene guards. Sellsword companies are few these days, ever since the queen destroyed the Golden Company."

"Incredible." And it was for no one has ever amassed such an army in the region of the Free cities in centuries.

"More to the point, we won't need to use them all. The queen intends to burn through much of the enemy fleets before they even engage ours. Then, she would burn down the gates of the city and simply take it. The purpose is so that our casualties are kept to a minimum."

"All that sounds well and good, but how are we to establish control there?"

"Lysene freeborn are outnumbered by the slaves three to one. And we own several of their magisters, thanks to the influence of the Elephants there. The Archon intends to appoint two viceroys for each city - one from Volantis and one local."

"Well in that case, I expect we shall be hearing of Volantene victory soon enough."

* * *

Heading the fleet and her men. Leading an invasion. Conquest. _Oh, how I have missed this. The thrill of battle._ She could understand why so many enjoyed war. It was simple and relatively straightforward. Kill or be killed. Own your fate or the enemy will own it. Compared to all the other things in life, this was easy. Unlike the last time, her allies respected her. There was no one whining about making a bloodless conquest as if such a thing is even possible. No suspicions about my own advisors wanting to poison me. _Especially with the ring Kinvara gave me._

Dany looked at her right hand to see it. A ring made of solid gold, with runes inscribed upon it. The most visible part was the massive red stone on it. The ruby would glow in the presence of poison. _Every monarch should have one of these._ Dany had ordered for a similar piece of jewelry to be crafted for Rhaenys.

Rhaenys Targaryen, Princess of the Rhoyne had to be protected at all times from all threats. Her enemies would sooner or later realize that battles against her they can't win, so they would start assassination attempts. While she trusted her guards, she knew that many assassins prefer poison. One sip from the wrong cup and that's it. Even if Westeros has too many problems of its own to bother her, there will always be people in the free cities who would seek to overthrow her. Even if all Volantis adores her for making their oldest dreams come true, the opposite would be said for the other cities. Lys is known to use poisons after all. _There is a poison named after the city._

As she flew over the fleet, she had to take a moment to admire it. Below she could see each of the them, spreading as far as the eye could see. Hundreds of ships hailing from Volantis, each having the Targaryen banner. The concept of sigils originated in Westeros so Volantis did not have its own. That gave her the freedom to indulge herself a bit. _My ships, my banners, my city._ Soon, her cities. All of them, one by one, she would build an empire for her daughter. A stable empire this time, not the type that crumbled to pieces when the wind blew in their general direction. 

There were also ships of the Iron Fleet, as Yara's help was appreciated, Dany knew that the woman wanted to partake in the plunder. Her previously extracted promise not to raid and pillage has of course been altered. As far as she sees it, the ironborn can raid anyone, but the Free cities.

Due to its location, Lys needed a powerful fleet. An island country needed a fleet more than an army really. More to the point, they were situated right next to the Stepstones, notorious for their pirate activities. A lawless land that Dany will soon have to bring to heel soon enough, but there was time for that.

Soon in sight came the Lysene fleet. _400 ships, my heart-shaped butt._ The Lysene must have hired sellsails, for the number was at least 100 off. Not that it mattered. Daenerys Targaryen has burned larger fleets, so she gave Drogon the command to fly faster. Dany spotted the sails of Saladhor Saan, the pirate prince who would turn his cloak in exchange for a price. _More like he learned who he was up against only after getting hired, so he wanted to save his skin. But a deal is a deal._

It was arranged that as soon as the first ships started to clash, Saan's ships will cause chaos for the defenders by attacking their alleged allies. A simple plan, which was good for much of that fleet would be at the bottom of the Summer sea. Daenerys flew over the ships to the right and narrowly missed a scorpion bolt.

_So you came prepared then. Good. It would have been boring if there was no resistance. I would feel like a bully._

"Dracarys." she ordered Drogon to unleash a stream of fire upon the enemy ships. The older her child grew, the more powerful he became. Not just in size, but also in the intensity of his flames and durability of his scales. Which made the arrows launched at him to bounce off from his belly and for the ships to start burning like so many candles. She repeated that process again and again, deftly avoiding any and all scorpion bolts launched at her. Funny thing about these weapons. They could hurt a dragon, but they had to hit him first. A surprise attack was the only way, for a dragon's reflexes were far superior to those of the man who had to aim and reload the massive wooden contraption.

Dany lost sight of how many ships she burned. A hundred, two hundred? Her fleet had clashed against the left flank of the enemy. _Or right, depends on who you are asking._ And they did their job. Thanks to the confusion caused by the sell-sails, the losses on her side were minimal. As she finished surveying the losses, she noticed a few of her ships which were damaged. One particularly bad and was about to sink. 

Daenerys flew over to it and lowered Drogon enough to look at the people, who were scrambling for the boats but there weren't enough. "Those of you who can't find a boat, come here." she shouted at them and for a moment they froze, like the ship wasn't sinking. They must have realized what she meant but were scared. _Of Drogon or me._ she said and took a moment to pay attention to her armor. She wasn't really going to fight, at least not before she had practiced with someone, but an armor was necessary to protect her from arrows. One of the many nobles had gifted her one rather intricate design - a black armor with red linings, obviously refashioned into Targaryen style, with her sigil made of rubies and a black helmet with a visor, which she lifted for them to see her face. _I must look rediculous. I need to find someone to teach me how to fight. Last time, it was against wights and it was almost a disaster._ At least, it was light enough for her to move in it comfortably.

Eventually some of the men, who were left out of the boats, overcame their fear and climbed on Drogon, who then swiftly took flight and leaving the wreck to sink. There were six of them, one who must have been the captain and a few younger men. They flew in the direction of the city, where she could already see her ships disembarking and invading the beach. The few men that stood on the walls began frantically firing arrows at them, tossing stones and even launching scorpion bolts. _Do these fools realize that they can't even reach me from this distance._ Dany dodged them all and flew higher into the sky. "Hold on tight.", she shouted in Valyrian to the people she recalled were on Drogon's back as well.

She gained enough height and as soon as she got over the walls, she ordered Drogon to swoop down and start burning the scorpions at the walls, just like before. Leaving behind a line of fire and screaming people, who appeared to be mostly sellswords, she went for the gate and turned it to ash. Her troops invaded the city and flooded the streets. She had ordered them not to harass the common people and to go for the government offices. Daenerys was still the Breaker of Chains and as she flew over the city, she noticed many people cheering for her. _Slaves._ She thought. _Slaves no longer, but free men._

Drogon landed so that the men she rescued could get off. As soon as she did, her Unsullied formed a wall around her. "Good people.", she shouted from Drogon's back after removing her helmet's visor. "My name is Daenerys Targaryen, Queen of Volantis and Archon of the New Freehold. Many of you must have heard of me. You know who I am and you know what I do. I did not come here to destroy your lives. I have come here to reunite a land left divided for too long. No harm shall come to the city if my demands are met. First - all slaves are henceforth free. And second - bring me your magisters and I will harm none of you without just cause. Bring them to me so that we can discuss the fate of Lys."

Soon enough, she was invited inside their government building where she met with the magisters, first magister and the gonfalonier of the city army. The city had lost, it was a fact that her generals had to repeat at least half a dozen times to get through the thick heads of the magisters but in the end they submitted and afterwards publicly bent the knee to her and proclaimed Daenerys, Queen of Lys and the city, part of the New Freehold.

 _This is just the start._ She thought to herself. _Soon, the rest will follow._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first large scale battle that I am depicting so much detail so I hope that you have enjoyed it. So please tell me what you think of it...  
> I also wanted to explain about the political situation in Volantis.  
> As for Dany wanting to learn how to fight....guess who is going to be her teacher ;)


	6. Beneath the tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A triumph of war and a victory of the heart in Volantis, Tyrion ponders the recent developments and Jon finds himself in a cave full of surprises.
> 
> PS: this is my longest chapter so far, overflows with events. Ask if you have any questions.  
> PPS: I know that my timeline is a mess, but for the sake of the story, please bear with it.

The roar of the crowds was deafening as Daenerys flew her dragon high above the procession. The triarchs had organized the victorious welcome as soon as her return was announced. A triumph has not been held here since the century of blood and the people were naturally excited. The dragon queen has kept her promise - Volantis has taken first steps to refounding the freehold. Lys had been taken rather bloodlessly, if rumors were to be believed, however there was a story of how a couple of magisters had tried to poison Daenerys and her generals during a feast, but had failed. As a result, Daenerys had publicly burned alive said magisters and had undoubtedly instilled great fear in the rest.

_The fury of the dragonlord. Lesser men defied the dragonlords of Old Valyria at their own peril. It is known._

Still, for some reason, instead of being terrified of her, Bellegere was worried if she was alright. Her cousin had sent her to Volantis to get the measure of the dragon queen and ensure she will never become a threat to Braavos. As the free city actively, though mostly passively, warring on slavery, Braavos should have been her first ally. However, instead they made her their enemy. Or rather the Iron Bank, too often seen as Braavos itself, did when they backed her enemies in Westeros. Not to mention their secret dealings with the former masters in Slaver's bay, now the Bay of dragons. _If the people knew, the keyholders would be lynched in the streets._ Not to mention the fact that Daenerys could want retribution for all that. One she could get. Braavos might never have been taken by Old Valyria, but that was only because the dragonlords of old never willed it. And Belle was starting to have doubts which side she was on.

Just the time, when she mustn't be sympathizing with her clients, she was starting to care. During Daenerys's time away, Belle was bored as hell. She often found herself staring at the sea, waiting for...something. While she was a guest at Daenerys's palace, she was not allowed to get too close to little Rhaenys. The child was always watched by loyal servants and Unsullied guards. Red priests often came to sing blessing to it. Not to mention the little blue dragon always flying close to the baby, hissing at strangers and breathing small blue flames from his mouth at them, not great enough to harm anyone but significant enough to relay the message - back off. And like a fool she came to care for the babe, too.

That snake Tycho Nestoris had said all sorts of terrible things about Daenerys Targaryen, but Belle saw no monster. Whatever had happened across the sea, whatever the circumstances - that person had died. This woman was a good person. Many former slaves had come to the Palace of the triarchs, these days called the Palace of the Freehold, seeking her help in being reunited with their families or seeking work or seeking passage back to their homelands - the Queen of Volantis had helped all of them. The Black Pearl, a master at manipulating men, knew that It was Tycho himself who had made the bank's dealings with Cersei Lannister, so his head would be on the chopping block if Daenerys came knocking. The bank and Braavos itself would gladly throw him at Daenerys's feet if she demanded it, just to save themselves. Though that man's dealings had done too much harm to her for her to accept just his head. 

As the great dragon landed in the center of plaza, he gave a mighty roar, responded to by the cheers of the crowds. A lone rider, dressed in exquisite black armor, rode atop him - the Archon herself. Belle found her stare trapped by that woman's figure, as she removed her helmet. "Good people!", she spoke. "We have returned bringing victory to Volantis but not just her. Lys also won, for through its defeat it has gained greater glory than it ever held before. The Freehold has officially began its reestablishment. Nine daughters Valyria had, all mighty and proud. To the good people of Volantis and the people hailing from the other cities I say this: It is my desire to reunite all of the free cities - for all of our glory. For too long we have been warring with each other, divided and ripe with corruption, decadent and weakened. Old Valyria established its colonies, each of them ruled ably from it, yet given great liberties and autonomy. As the last daughter of Valyria, I shall uphold this tradition. The old freehold ruled Essos, the new one shall do so as well and all that are part of it will benefit. Long live Volantis! Long live the New Freehold!"

"Long live the New Freehold!", the people shouted in turn.

"Long live the Queen!", she spotted one of the triarchs shouted. "Long live the Queen!"

"Let the whole city feast tonight. For today Valyria's glory has been reborn!"

Feasts were held all over the city. The queen's was attended by the most people though. The Targaryen's palace was stuffed with people from the Old blood, merchants, money-lenders, envoys from other cities. Those envoys, just like her no doubt, were pondering what to tell to their masters. Lys, the third strongest of the Free cities after Volantis and Braavos, fell within a day. The ones with brains in their heads knew that their cities stood no chance, not to mention the fact that it was to their benefit that the cities did not resist. Lys was an example of what she was building. And as far as conquests went, hers was practically bloodless. Apart from those that had tried to poison her, none of the city's rulers had been hurt, their property was retained. All that Lys lost in terms of money was the price for the ships that the Lysene fleet had managed to sink. Bellegere was certain that news of this were already spreading like wildfire across western Essos.

Belle herself was slightly surprised when she was seated rather close to Daenerys herself. At her own table, unlike any of the other envoys. On one hand, it was like she was being paraded as the Archon's concubine and it made her feel slightly annoyed at the looks she received from some of the nobles. On the other, she was happy to be close to her. Daenerys paid her attention, despite being asked tons of questions by the nobles, merchants and foreign envoys.

While lost in thought, she felt a hand over her shoulder and a pair of lips, breathing down her neck. "I hope that you will choose to accompany me for some fresh air outside. The gardens are nowhere near as lovely without you."

Belle could not refuse her, even if she wanted to. And she did not want to. As soon as they got in the exotic gardens, she felt the queen's hand take hold of her cheeks and Belle was pulled into a deep kiss.

"I missed you.", Belle couldn't leave it unsaid. 

"I know." was Daenerys's answer. The pause she gave herself totally infuriated the courtesan. "I missed you, too Bellegere. I hope that you haven't been too bored without me."

"Life without the Mother of Dragons is like living without the sun."

"Then how come you have grown to adulthood?", she gave her one of those replies that she gave when someone spoke to her like that. "I have great affections for you, Belle. In fact, you are the first woman I feel towards like that. Only one person has ever made me feel as loved as you do. I just...hope that it is mutual."

"It is.", Belle quickly answered. "You are unique, Daenerys Stormborn. I have never been with a woman like you. I am...afraid that I am being quite unprofessional with regards to the way that I have allowed my affections towards you to develop."

"Good. Because you know how I suffered through one heartbreak.", she smirked at her own joke. "Prove it. Be completely honest with me. Why are you in Volantis?"

Bellegere Otherys, Fourth Black Pearl of Braavos, was for the first time ever forced to choose between duty and affection. Will she choose her loyalty to Braavos over her feelings? What should she do? Daenerys's gaze did not leave her eyes. What was that feeling that was bubbling inside her soul? _Mother must be spinning in her grave._

_And yet I cannot help it. I...._

"Well?"

"Do you remember what you told me about the front doors here, when I asked you about them?", Daenerys meant to say something, but Belle placed her forefinger on her lips, urging with her eyes to let her finish. "A lemon tree and a red door. You said that it reminds you of home. That to you it means home."

"I am surprised that you remember that story.", she said, a soft smile, the one she finds herself craving more and more these days, graced her lips.

"I remember everything you have shared with me.", Belle returned the smile. "My point is, to me that symbol, the one of home is--"

"The Titan of Braavos, in whose fiery eyes you saw protection from all harm.", Daenerys finished her sentence for her. "What? I also listen to what you share. I told you that I care."

_....love her...._

"I was sent here by my cousin, the current Sealord of Braavos, at the behest of the Iron Bank."

"Why?"

"To spy on you. To seduce you. To make certain that you will not threaten the bank's interests."

"Which are?"

"If you unite the other free cities, you could isolate the Iron bank and cripple its wealth and influence?"

"And why would I do that?"

"Because the bank funded your enemy, Cersei Lannister. Because of them, your enemies had enough funds to keep warring against you. Because they are hypocrites, who despite professing their Braavosi-rooted ideals of independence and hatred of slavery, they profit secretly from the slave trade."

Daenerys did not say a word and Belle was too afraid to speak first. She was glad to finally take all that from her chest, but she was afraid of her reaction. From her disappointment.

"And what would you have done, if I had proven a threat, as I have no doubt now?"

She removed a vial, hidden inside her a hidden pocket in her sleeve. "This is Tears of Lys. They would have pinned the crime on the magisters of Lys. I was given it this morning by a rider from the bank. I wouldn't have used it.", she said and gave it to her, who threw the vial on the marble floor and they silently watched as the liquid sunk beneath it. "I will tell you who the man is. He is still in the city."

"I know. My men captured him today. He confirmed your story.", her eyes must have widened. "It took some torturing, but he admitted to having been given directions from his superiors at the bank to 'ensure that the up-jumped whore did her task'. I had him fed to Drogon for his insolence." Belle turned around when the black dragon, nicely cloaked by the starless sky, grumbled as if to confirm that he has been recently fed.

"I am sorry.", she said through her tears. "I just...I did not know what to think about you at first. I wanted to tell you, but I did not know how you will react and I did not want you to..."

"Burn Braavos? I would never do something like that. Never again! I would not blame a whole city for the sins of the bank. The bank on the other hand deserves everything it is going to get for manipulating people and ruining their lives. Those who fill their pockets on the misery of others will all receive the same thing. Fire and blood."

"I will understand if you hate me...."

"Hate you?", she gave her a puzzled look. "I told you I loved you. I, whose heart was already broken by a man, destined to remain in it until the day I die. I told you that you are the first woman I have loved like that and you think that is going to change just because you were manipulated by that scum?"

"But..."

"Were you going to use it? That vial."

"No, I have never killed anyone. I would never be able to kill someone I....someone that I.....love."

"if only he shared that sentiment.", she said, tears coming out of her eyes. Belle hated him. Whatever his name was, for breaking her heart, she hated him. "Do you plan to leave me, Bellegere?"

"Never. And, please call me Belle?"

"In that case....you can call me....Dany."

They kissed, deeply and with more passion than ever before, as the moonlight finally broke through the clouds and shone upon them.

* * *

The capital was still a ruin. Looking out through the window, Tyrion could still see many ruined buildings. The little money, left in the treasury itself buried in rubble, were spent on renovating the walls and rebuilding the castle. _If it were her, she would have lived in a tent, before letting the people sleep on the streets._ Varys's voice haunted him again and he knew he was right. _Even though she was the one to burn them and their homes. And yes, I know that it is because of my worthless strategies that Cersei managed to keep her throne for so long, no need to remind me of that, you old cockles pile of ash._ Tyrion thought as he drained another cup of arbor gold, which got more difficult to come by these days.

His pondering got more and more often, ever since he heard of the Battle for Highgarden. _Ask me again in ten years. Well Jon, it has been less than half that and we were all wrong._ It was not worth it. Westeros it still tearing itself apart and nobody is content, apart from her that is. The few ships from across the water that graced the capital's ports these days, brought news of the Targaryen banner flying above the walls of Lys. Another city added to her new Freehold. Months after, Myr and Pentos willingly joined in. As spiteful as he was about the woman, who had failed him and his dreams, Tyrion knew that watching her prosper without him by her side was his punishment from whatever fucking gods existed or not for convincing Jon Snow to kill her. _The boy wanted to protect the realm and his sisters, but he would have never done it, unless I told him the inevitable outcome of his inactivity._ Arya would have tried to kill her, failed most likely and burned alive. Sansa would have never bent the knee and burned as well. Tyrion himself would have died long before either. And in the end, Jon Snow would have killed himself over guilt over all that butchery he had done in her name. The boy had his stepfather's weakness - the one called honor.

The past was behind them though, it did not matter. The present did. This morning, he received a letter from Dorne. Prince Manfrey Martell declared independence and Tyrion could not stop him. There had been a lot of grumbling ever since he was forced by Daenerys to give the Iron Islands independence, but he could do naught to quell them. A few short years back, Bronn's head had been delivered to him, packed in salt, with the message: _Highgarden and the Reach have been restored to proper hands, expect no oaths of fealty to the Northern cripple and expect no weirwoods planted throughout the Reach. You shall hear of us at the next Great Council. Signed - Ser Jasper Redwyne, Lord of Highgarden, Lord Paramount of the Reach._

Frankly, that was a lot better than what Tyrion expected. Bran was not exactly a popular king. The order for the weirwoods was made because the king's abilities were strengthened by their presence. The Crownlands obeyed, but the rest of the kingdoms thought it folly and explaining the king's powers was not going to help anyone, least of all the pious lords who worshipped the Seven and denounced the Heretic king, as they called Bran.

There was more though. The Young, a group of rebellious youth, mostly active in the Reach, the Riverlands and the Westerlands, were causing mischief. And that was putting it mildly. Harassment of tax collectors, butchering of said tax collectors, theft, kidnapping.... These men had even kidnapped and reportedly gang-raped the daughter of lord Bracken before cutting her throat and sending her body back to her father. That crime was more than enough to declare them enemies of the realm and issue bounties upon their heads. A hundred silver stags for the head of their leader, one ser Jack Flowers, whom people called Redflowers. Tyrion remembered the Brotherhood without banners and wanted to avoid another such situation. 

He picked another letter from the small pile at his desk and read it. It was another plea for help from Sansa Stark, Queen in the North. No, it isn't. The long succession of letter for help is over. She is announcing her pregnancy and invites the king to attend the feast she will organize for its birth. _Well, let's hope it is not stillborn, else it will be embarrassing._ He chuckled at his own joke.

_I suppose that the king will visit his sister then? You and Sansa Stark, two fellow conspirators, will meet again. Hope she is faring better than you._

"Yes, my dear spider. You have a knack for stating the obvious."

_Oh, but do I? Tell me, what are his titles again? Your king._

"What stupid game is this? King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First men, Lord of the Six kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

_But he doesn't rule another two kingdoms now. So isn't he lord of four kingdoms and king of...Andals only? I mean, almost all First men are north of the Neck and all the Rhoynar are in Dorne._

"Very funny, old friend.", he laughed dryly. "The realm has fallen apart, is that what you want me to admit to you?"

_My friend, I am merely a figment of your imagination. You speak to air, naught else. What is left of me is but ashes scattered throughout Dragonstone. Speaking of ashes, how is the Reach? Another kingdom you lost, no?_

"The Reach is still part of the realm.", he shouted. "Ser Jasper Redwyne has declared himself Lord of Highgarden and Lord Paramount of the Reach. Not its king."

_As part of your mind, the one that still works as sharp as before, I shall indulge you and let you figure it out for yourself. Why didn't a perfectly self-sufficient kingdom not declare independence?_

Tyrion started to think and after a while it dawned on him. "Because when Bran dies, they would be primed to take over in the next Great Council."

_Congratulations, my lord hand, you have figured it out. That head of yours seems to have more than that mangy thing you call beard on it. Thanks to the new system you have installed, nobody will care whether you sell your king's marriage bed to anyone. Meaning, he can't gain any allies. A Northerner, worshipping false gods in a Realm worshipping the Seven. And thanks to your misrule, which by the way is even worse than your sister's, he might get assassinated long before old age. Weakness invites assassins._

"His powers will warn us of such dangers."

_Will they? Even if you were to know of every threat to his rule, you cannot counter them all. Thanks to your little gambit in supporting that sellsword, you have almost no armies to speak of. Your authority spreads no further from the walls of King's Landing. I find it a miracle that the lords of the Crownlands still listen to you. Then again, the lords are sheep. Always willing to bend over for their new shepherd._

Tyrion took another deep sip from his cup. "I hate you. So what? What am I supposed to do, huh? If the realm is to crumble, let it do so. BUT after I am gone. I will rule it for as long as I can. Fuck anything else. Let them scheme against me. I will fight them until one of them finally manages to kill me. I was the shame of the mighty lord Tywin and yet I am the last of his children standing. His golden twins are dead, their legacy one of shit. I survived Joffrey, Cersei, father and even Daenerys herself. I survived the Night king. I am still here. I removed the Targaryens from power. I created a new order of things in Westeros. I, Tyrion of House Lannister, the Dwarf of Casterly Rock and Hand of the King. Let them all fight over Westeros, like the jackals the lords are."

He tossed the cup out of the window and pointed his finger at the ghost of his dead friend. "I will laugh in the midst of it all. I will die without apology."

* * *

The further north he went, the colder it became. Jon knew that it was only natural, but he still hated it. Even though it was spring, this far north it was comparable to winter in early winter. In the North. But he had to find it. More than a week ago, at least he thought it a week, he dreamt of a hollow tree. It felt like it was calling to him. He kept thinking about it. He imagined it in his sleep, while eating, while shitting. It was calling to him. It kept calling to him. He had to find it. That is why he packed some supplies and headed north. He didn't know where he was headed. He didn't know the direction. He only knew his target. The hollow tree. Somehow, he felt that it would give him meaning. Perhaps, he was mad. As mad as his grandfather. 

The journey was difficult. He was alone, for he didn't allow Ghost to follow him. He had to go alone. The snows were still deep here, snow storms took place often. He kept going though. Following the call of that wretched tree. And eventually, he found it.

It was a lone tree on a hill in the middle of nowhere. Quite literally. There was nothing else there. He walked towards it and noticed an entrance. _Beneath the tree._ The voice of his dreams had whispered. He entered inside. What he saw wasn't pretty. There were bones everywhere. Old skeletons, most of them small. Too small to be those of humans. _Children. Could that have been the Children of the Forest?_

_They were._

"Who said that?", Jon unsheathed Longclaw and swung it around. 

_Come closer._ The voice beckoned and he did so, sword held ready to slash anything that came out. Jon entered deeper inside the cave and he saw a grotesque sight. He saw the roots of the weirwood tree, inside of which was stuck a body. A corpse, that appeared to have been stabbed many times. As if something had tried to rip it apart, but the roots had prevented that. It lacked most of its flesh. Much of it was rotten or missing. But the figure was still there. An old man, dressed in black.

 _Come closer._ The voice spoke again and that's what he did. _As if it could do worse than kill me._

Jon approached the dead man and touched the roots around him. That is when his vision went blank. 

It was for an instant. A brief moment, after which he found himself in the ruins of the Red Keep, looking at Daenerys and....himself. But he was not alone. "Show yourself." A man, the same man, came closer to him. Jon could take a look at his face, which was not rotten, but whole. Well, almost whole. He missed an eye. There was also a red mark, covering his right cheek. "Who are you?"

"Isn't the real question, who are you?"

"My name is Jon Snow."

"Wrong. It is not your name. Not the real one in any case. Not the one your mother gave you."

"You knew my mother?"

"I know everything. I am what came before your uncle's son took my title."

"You are....the three-eyed-raven."

"I was that. Now, I am nothing. I am but a corpse, bound to tree which will never let go. It feeds off my soul, leeching my energy for its own selfish existence."

"What has happened? What is this? What are we doing here?"

"So many questions. You are by now aware of your brother's abilities, yes?"

"He says that he knows things."

The one-eyed man chuckled. "Yes, that is a rather simple way of putting it. I was preparing him to be my successor. The three-eyed-raven was needed south, to help combat the Night king. I cannot leave this cave, even in death."

"So you lured my little brother here and turned him into a soulless thing?", Jon's anger rose. "If he truly knows everything, then why did he not warn us of so many disasters. So much could have gone differently. So many good people died because he said only what he thought necessary."

"You asked what happened here. It is the Night king that happened. He marked your brother, who inexperienced as he was got too close to the Night king. Greensight allows one to witness things far away but a target sufficiently powerful in the dark arts has the ability to notice. To counter attack."

"He showed it to me. The red mark on his arm."

"That mark bound him to the Night king. It made it so that no barrier, including the magic of this cave, could prevent the Night king from reaching him. That is why, when Bran Stark crossed the Wall, the Night king's army could follow."

"I don't understand. He killed Viserion and used his flames to break the Wall."

"The Wall wasn't just a wall. Ancient magics beyond your understanding were carved into it by your ancestor - Brandon the Builder, also known as the Last Hero. His magic prevented the Night king or anything dead from destroying the Wall. When Bran passed through, that all went to hell and the Wall turned into just a huge block of ice."

"What does that have anything to do with it?"

"You asked and I am answering. Without my teachings complete, Bran gets lost inside the timelines. Eventually, he will completely loose touch with reality. It will be years until that happens, but...."

"I know that my brother died on this side of the Wall. I know he is not my brother, but my cousin. Or was." he stared on in silence as he observed the muted voices of Dany and his past self. "Why am I here? Just to suffer?"

He chuckled. "Yes. And no. I wanted to talk with you. I want to show you a few things, in exchange you will use that magical sword of yours to cut my body off from this bloody tree so that I can rest in peace. Do we have a deal?"

Jon did not have anything to loose. "Yes. Who are you?"

"Once upon a time, many years ago, I was born to a king and one of his mistresses. The woman gave me the name 'Brynden', so I was called Brynden Rivers, though most know me as Bloodraven."

"You are one of the Great Bastards of Aegon the Unworthy."

"Yes. I used to rule the realm in all but name for many years, until one of my cousins, your great-great-grandfather, decided that I was a criminal and sent me to join the Night's watch alongside his brother - the man you know as Maester Aemon."

"How is this possible? I thought that..."

"Can we cut to the chase? I am old and quite bored. I know my story and so should you. I mean, it is your family's story."

"It is not."

"Isn't it? Are you not Aegon Targaryen, son of Rhaegar and Lyanna? Child of Ice and Fire. The Prince that was Promised."

"That was never me. And it was Arya who killed the Night king."

"She was merely the edge of your blade. She would never have killed him without you."

"Without Dany. If it weren't for her dragons and armies we would all be dead."

"I am dead. But she?", he chuckled. "Yes, I suppose the Gods really fucked you up, didn't they? Used and tossed aside were the saviors of the realm. The Prince that was promised. Funny thing, the original prophesy was in High Valyrian, where the word for prince, or ruler rather, is 'archon'. That word, just like dragons, has no gender, so in effect it would be 'prince or princess that was promised. Or rather - prince and princess that was promised."

"Fuck your riddles, old man. Get to your point.", Jon shouted but the man just chuckled again. "Is that what we are to you? Toys to use and then cast aside."

"You are more. But you were also foolish. You two defeated the enemy of all life, just so you could be separated and defeated by greedy people. Tyrion Lannister being one of them. And of course, your sister. Or cousin rather."

"What are you talking about?"

"Let's see, shall we?"

The view changed, just as the vision came to the point in which he stabbed his beloved. The setting was now Winterfell. He spotted Tyrion talking with Sansa, but he still couldn't hear them.

"My apologies for the lack of sound. My powers are a bit murky after so long. My body is rotting after all, but I will spare you the wondering. Your dearest Sansa, just after you swore her to secrecy, is telling him your true identity."

It wasn't a surprise. He already suspected that. But to see it still. "Why?", he asked. "Why did she do it?"

"Because she wanted you on the throne. What was left of her conscience made her believe that it was for the greater good. For the good of the North.", the white haired man chuckled again. "But it was all for power. She knew that Tyrion Lannister couldn't keep his tongue behind his teeth to save his life. She knew that he would start telling people. That would have made Daenerys, already paranoid and surrounded by people who despise her to start burning people. Her enemies. Maybe even you."

"To what end?"

"So that she could become queen. Her oldest desire. I am certain that you are unaware but she was not sold to the Boltons. Not really. Unlike her marriage to Tyrion Lannister, the one to Ramsay Bolton was willing, even if the result was tragic. She married him because she saw him as a away to take the North back. For herself. But the boy was not one she could control and when Stannis Baratheon lost to him, she fled to you."

"She wanted the North back so that we could be safe."

"Under her rule. You were so awed by the adoration you received by the men, who would spit at the feet of your one true love, that you failed to notice her look of contempt when they chanted your new title."

"Is everybody in my family so flawed?", he muttered.

"She wasn't. Not before you abandoned her during your identity crisis. And then it was too late. You had to put her down right? For the good of the realm."

"She burned an entire city.", his voice hoarse, to Jon the argument sounded more and more ridiculous every time he heard it.

"A city. Yes, that it is. A city burned to ash. A terrible concept. And yet, she might have been the fire, but it is you and those around her that lit the flames. What do you think happens when you juggle with wildfire?", he looked at him like he was a simpleton. "You were protecting the North and your so called siblings. But she was your kin also. And...well...maybe I should say....they."

"What?" _No, no, no, no, please don't tell me...._

"Yes, she was with child. A lovely little girl, hm. You killed twice over." Jon crumbled to his knees. He never thought that the pain of killing her could be surpassed by anything. He was wrong. "Now, now, don't despair. There is still life for you left. A chance for you to redeem yourself in the eyes of our ancestors. in her eyes."

"HOW? I killed her. I killed my child. My daughter. I should have let her burn them all. All of them before I ever hurt her.", Jon's tears flooded his eyes. "How the fuck can I redeem myself?"

"To find redemption you must first journey south and then east. Then you will run around in circles and your heart will be restored.", Brynden knelt and his one good eye stared directly into his. "Our time together is over. After you are done with my body, return to Hardhome. There you will find a lone rider with an invitation to a feast in honor of Sansa Stark's firstborn son's birth. Go there. To Winterfell. I believe that there you will hear something most interesting from the mouth of your former friends and family. Goodbye."

Jon awoke back inside the cave. He took Longclaw into his right hand and hacked at the roots of the tree until he freed the body from it. Behind the man's robes, he discovered a dusty sword. The blade somehow got his attention and he cleaned it, only to discover it was made of Valyrian steel. _Dark sister. It is said that he was its last wielder._ The blade was clearly made for a woman, its hilt topped by a golden flame. He took it with him and then burned the corpse.

Jon headed for Hardhome, where a lone rider from Winterfell awaited. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Belle revealing her agenda to Dany felt kind of natural at that point. Might seem a little rushed, but in the story they have known each other for months and I wanted to make the feelings between them clear. Yes, I am creating a love triangle here. Jon is not the only person in Dany's heart and he is going to have to work for her forgiveness, and even then he is going to have to come to terms with the fact that he is not the only one there. Don't hate me Jonerys shippers, but the dragon must have three heads. (For those unaware, Bellegere is descended from a bastard of Aegon IV the Unworthy);
> 
> Varys as a sort of a ghost in Tyrion's head was something I thought of a long time ago. Tyrion arguing with himself is fun;
> 
> And, I think we all know where Dark sister will be going. And Jon's encounter will, needless to say, have a major impact on his actions in the future.
> 
> Next chapter - Winterfell and Jon leaving Westeros.


	7. Winterfell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People from all over Westeros come to Winterfell, for a feast in honor of Sansa's heir. The games of the south reach the North.  
> Jon discovers something kept hidden from him for years and he finally sets upon a new path in his life.

Crossing the Wall felt strange to him. Exiled for the crime of queenslaying, it felt odd to return. On one hand, he felt guilty for not staying north as part of his punishment for killing the woman he loved. For killing his child and one shot at happiness. On the other, it was hypocritical for the realm to revile him, given how he saved them all. He still felt conflicted about all that had happened between them. What he saw beneath the tree had given him some clarity on how everything had happened. How they were used and tossed aside. How they were not given the chance to love each other. How Daenerys was not given the benefit of the doubt from those around her. The people, who were supposed to be their friends and family, had decided to destroy them long before King's Landing.

Back when he first learned about his true heritage, from Sam of all people, he was thrown into a pit of self-doubt. He always admired Ned Stark as his father, the pinnacle of honor, a man without fault. He was always right. Always. And then it turned out that it was all a lie. He had kept his true identity hidden from everyone. Himself included. At first, Jon had assumed that Ned Stark had wanted to protect his nephew from Robert Baratheon, a man whose hatred for all things Targaryen was well known. The man would have no doubt crushed baby Jon with his Warhammer, even if he knew that he was the son of his beloved Lyanna. Especially, if he knew that. The man fought a whole rebellion for the woman, who was never his to have after all. 

With time though, he started to think that maybe Ned Stark did not want to simply protect his sister's son, but to also erase him from existence. Ned Stark all but encouraged Jon to one day join the Night's Watch, even though he must have known that the order was nowhere near as noble as he told him It were. He never told his wife the truth, letting the Tully bitch despise an innocent boy, condemning him to the shame of being a bastard, whereas he was the one true king of Westeros all along. _Not that I give a shit about that now._

Jon Snow. Aegon Targaryen. Two names, one man. One northern fool.

As much as Jon wanted to believe that it was all Sansa and Tyrion's fault. That it was the Spider, ever conniving eunuch that he was, who sealed their defeat. As much as he wanted for all that to be true, he knew that it was their fault as well. Dany should never have listened to the advice of a Lannister of all people. She had conquered three cities in the past, how many cities had any of them taken. None, he knew. And yet, she had listened to their whining about casualties. People die in wars, it was natural. Perhaps though that was her fault as well, for not acting like a proper conqueror. If she had taken the capital in the beginning, most likely the casualties would have been kept to a minimum.

It was his fault as well. All their fault. If they hadn't been crying about honor and heroism so much and just gave the woman what she was owed, perhaps things would have ended up differently. No. They would have. It took her less than a day to take the capital. Surely, she could have done that before going north and still have time before the battle against the White walkers. Cersei Lannister and Euron Greyjoy would have died before taking so much from her. She would not have lost her friends, her dragons, her people. They died for the ungrateful Westeros, for the dishonorable North, for this land of fucking ingrates, who couldn't see past their pettiness, their desire to despise someone, simply because of their parents. 

It is this fucking continent's fault for unleashing the worst inside people. It corrupts us, makes us vain and evil, all because of that fucking iron chair. _Good thing Drogon burned it to slag._

Dany wasn't mad when he met her the first time. She was the best person in the world. Aye, she was self-entitled, how not, given all she had accomplished. All that she wanted to accomplish for the benefit of the common people. But she was this beautiful, good woman and by the end of it all - she was broken by the wheel, she sought to break. And did he act like a man to help her through her difficulties....no. He didn't. He let her suffer all alone, while being consumed by his own dilemma, which he could have postponed for a while at least.

And like a fool, he told Sansa and Arya. The woman, many called the Hero of Winterfell, even though she was but the final blow, could be trusted. Sansa, though.....not at all as he discovered.

And now he was going there, to the capital of the Queen in the North, Sansa of House Stark, First of her Name. The woman he protected from the one he loved. One of the three people he protected from her by killing her. And by far - the worst. 

Jon was accompanied by Ghost and Tormund had also decided to join him. "I hope to see the tall woman.", he had said. Jon supposed that the big warrior woman, who once served as Sansa's sworn sword and now as Bran's lord commander of the kingsguard, was difficult to forget. There, he would also meet the king. Bran the Broken. An apt name, he finds. Travelling south with their rather talkative companion, the Winterfell guard Jerrod, he had learned that the kingdoms were even more fractured than before. Dorne and the Iron Islands had declared themselves independent if his interpretation of 'the sand vipers and smelly krakens have ditched the rest of the realm' was correct. And apparently there was some war in the Reach that did not end in Bran's favor and there were some rebel bandits roaming the countryside.

When he heard of it all from Jerrod, he couldn't help but laugh: "It never ends does it? That bloody game of thrones." 

He laughed for a while on that. It had all been for nothing. What worse could she do to Westeros than what Westeros could do to itself? She burned an entire city to the ground and instead of the people learning from their mistakes and forging a better future, they just kept fighting. Fighting for power. It is all the same. _It's been 5 years since I killed you, my love. And to them, it is like you were never here._

Jon was torn from his thoughts when Tormund shouted that he had seen Winterfell in the distance. Even in the earliest stages of summer, the North was still cold. Not as cold as the lands further beyond, but cold still. Chilly, rather. There was a fog that covered the ground like a blanket. There was no snow on this side of the Wall, except for a few scattered piles of muddy and hardened snow. But the land was beginning to forget the terrors of last winter. _The world almost ended with an endless night. Does anyone still remember?_

As they approached the gates of the castle, Jerrod bid them to stop and shouted for the gates to be opened. "Announcing Jon Snow, Brother of the Night's Watch and Tormund Giantsbane of the Free Folk." 

_I have come full circle. From a bastard crow to trueborn king and to a bastard crow again._ For some reason, nobody had notified anyone of his true birth. _Figures._ Not that he wanted to, truth be told. Jon was Jon. He will always be Jon. And his last name, well it only has ever brought him trouble. And pain. Pain most of all. Officially, he was still part of the Night's watch, which itself still existed. Not that anyone ever paid much attention to it, apart from it being a convenient place to send to all the undesirable people of Westeros. _That's where I belong to them, I imagine._

Jon rode his horse through the gates of Winterfell. He must have been quite the sight. Gruff, his beard and hair grown out and unkept, not to mention his outfit which was made of a terrible combination of animal skins, furs and black Night's watch leathers. He must have looked like some sort of demon. Apart from some gawking from the people, who no doubt remembered the man who 5 years ago was their king, he was led to a chamber for him. _The Queen is busy, your Grace. She will meet you later._

Jon did not know which annoyed him more - that Sansa was queen, that they still called him king or the fact that the woman, whose scheming ruined him, did not even bother to greet him. 

The room was not too large and he had to share it with Tormund. Luckily, the wildling had left in search of ser Brienne, who was here together with the king, judging from his black three-eyed raven standards being visible. Not the king though. He must be with Sansa. The bed was more comfortable than the rougher equivalents beyond the Wall and there were clothes left for him. Pure black ones, fancy though. For a king, a crow, a Targaryen. 

_A widower._ Jon thought solemnly and kicked the water pitcher from the table and it broke on the floor.

* * *

Winterfell was getting crowded. Sansa looked out from the windows and saw the black three-eyed raven on white, her brother's royal standard, as well as the Arryn's falcon and even the Redwyne grapes, quartered with the Tyrell rose. A formal invitation from the Queen in the North towards the great lords of Westeros was extended in honor of the birth of her son. Eddard Stark, Prince of Winterfell. It was the traditional title of the heir apparent to the Northern crown, back from the days before the Conquest. Theon had mockingly referred to himself as such, when he stole Winterfell from Robb. She held no hatred for him now though. Whatever his past sins, in her eyes, he was redeemed. He died for House Stark. He died for the King of the Six kingdoms. He died for Westeros.

Sansa approached the cradle, inside which the future king slept. Red cheeked and healthy, what more could a mother ask for?! She stared at his little face, his grey eyes and black hair. He was a Stark through and through. If he hadn't exited her womb, some would claim he was not the son of the Red Wolf. The boy had taken the traditional Stark looks and nothing from the side of his grandmother's family. The Manderlys were prone to fat, as Willem's looks could attest. His father and brothers were all fat, though compared to them, Willem was rather lean. _Please, at least in regards to the belly, take after me._ She made a prayer to the Old Gods and the New, as a smile escaped her lips. 

_Who am I kidding? I love them both so much._ At first, Sansa didn't really trust her husband. Why should she have? She had terrible experience with men. Her first - Joffrey - while never married to him, was a monster. Her first real husband was a Lannister dwarf. Much better than either his predecessor or successor but still hardly a match for the dreams of the daughter of the Lord of Winterfell. And Ramsay was a beast in human skin. He had raped her repeatedly during their brief marriage. He had abused her in ways that made even Joffrey look like a kitten in comparison. 

Willem though. He is so sweet. It was hard at first for her to bond with him, but he had always been so kind to her. Dutiful, too, for he never questioned her authority. He is also the man, who made her feel loved, who made her stop fearing sharing her bed with a man. Who showed her that not all men were animals. That sex could be something to enjoy. Sansa Stark had found peace. Everything should be fine now. IF it weren't for those detestable rebels.

"They call themselves the Young.", Bran spoke from the corner of the room, where he was sitting on his wheelchair. "They were founded by a hedge knight named Jack Flowers."

"It is his ideas that are dangerous, your Grace.", spoke Lord Royce, the Master of War. "The man preaches that the smallfolk can live without lords and kings. It is dangerous to our way of life."

"You are the few, we are the many. And when the many stop fearing the few....", Bran spoke, his voice cold and stern. "The words of the High Sparrow. Jack Flowers used to be a member of the restored Faith Militant, before the destruction of Baelor's. Now he has taken the man's teachings of equality to a whole new level."

"They are spreading like wildfire in a forest, your Grace.", ser Davos said. "And worse, they are an idea. You cannot kill an idea. No matter how many you kill."

"And how does that concern me?", Sansa asked. "I care for my son, my husband and for the North. What games you lot play south of the Neck are your own to play. I don't care. That's why I separated myself and the North from the other kingdoms."

"You did it because you wanted to be on top.", Bran spoke in a voice, that was as close to mockery as he could make, and Tyrion had the arrogance to chuckle at that.

"And yet, here we are." ser Davos said, in a darker tone. "Perhaps, it is a coincidence that you got everything you ever wanted, your Grace.", the last two words were filled with spite, but she would not let it shake her. _I did what I did for the good of the realm._

"Have you something you wish to say, smuggler?", her Willem spoke. She always invited him when they had to meet people of importance. As important as this incompetent gang of merry idiots was.

"Enough.", Tyrion shouted and woke little Eddard. _Damn Imp._ She gently rocked his cradle and led him to sleep again. "My apologies.", he said quietly.

"We all have sins to carry on our shoulders. Me and lord Tyrion more than the others here. But we did what we did for the good of the people. That tyrant would have been the doom of Westeros. And neither Jon nor anyone else could control her."

"Oh, and now it is all better? The realm knows peace and prosperity?", the old onion knight chuckled.

"How can you say that, even after King's Landing?"

"You began conspiring against her, long before that, queen Sansa. Against both of them. You were just jealous of them. Of her. Of the fact that her people chose her to be their queen, while your people preferred you bastard brother to your father's last trueborn daughter. Admit it."

Sansa's face twitched in fury. If he were her subject, she would have hanged him, but he wasn't. 

"The song of ice and fire has yet to sing its final verse.", Bran spoke again in that creepy soft voice of his. "The dragons still sings in the east."

"What are you talking about?", Sansa asked. She knew that Daenerys lived, but despite of her saying and even putting it in writing, she still feared the return of the dragon queen.

"She has a child.", Tyrion spoke. "We heard rumors of her having a daughter before, but one of our spies overheard some sailors, hailing from Volantis, buying rare herbs and spices from Dorne for a grand feast in honor of her daughter's soon to come 5th nameday."

"She has a daughter? From who?"

"I think you can guess whose her five year old daughter is?", Tyrion said.

"Jon's....impossible."

"If she could be resurrected, then why not a child in the womb?"

"But she was barren, right?"

"She thought so.", Tyrion answered. "But we never knew for sure. She never got examined by a maester of anyone else for that matter."

"Doesn't matter. What she does in the east is of no concern to us.", Bronze Yohn put his foot down. "She has left us in peace for the last five years. She is no problem of ours. We have far more pressing concerns to us."

 _A child who can one day lay claim to all of Westeros is a concern, I should think._ But he is not wrong. Even though these rebels are non-existent in the North, she has to prepare in case they become her problem. Besides, she had to support the Vale at least, for she still had to rely on them for grain. Trade with the rest of the kingdoms and the free cities was possible, but the Northerners were never really rich people and prices went up with her independence.

 _Everything has a price._ However, Sansa needed to help keep the kingdoms peacefull, lest the merchants decide to raise their price. 

"They Young are most active in the northern Reach and the Riverlands, the regions that suffered the most during the wars. The problem is, like ser Davos said, that they are a movement. No clear leader, but they do not work against each other. There are also smaller bands in the Westerlands and in the Stormlands, too."

"What about Dorne and the Iron Islands?"

"None, as far as we know. The Dornish and the Ironborn, just like your people, are different culturally compared to the rest of the realm. Apparently, that has prevented such groups from sprouting here and there."

"Sansa.", the Prince Consort of the North spoke. "Given the current state of poverty in the North, perhaps these Young will appear here as well. We must keep an eye out, just in case." Sansa nodded to her husband's prudent advice. He was not wrong and yet these marauders had been active in the south for years and there have been no such groups here. Sansa had to keep it that way.

"How large are these bands?", she asked.

"The original one is from the Reach, some 5000 strong."

"That much?", Sansa gasped. _That is a small army._ "But not all of them are warriors surely?"

"True, they don't have much in way of weapons and arms. Not to mention that most of them are too young, as their name implies, to have too much of a battle experience to speak of. Most of them are children aged between 12 and 16. Though they do have some older men among them, nameless veterans from other battles without a doubt."

"What of other gangs?", she asked. "They are smaller, I hope."

"Yes. The Riverlands one is about 2500 strong. Led by some other bastard, whose name we are not certain of. The other gangs are smaller, less than 15 hundred men. The real problem is that they rarely stay in one place for too long. They move from town to town, from village to village and pillage and murder those against them. The moment that a real army approaches them, they scatter like rats. And the worst thing is they seem to grow in number with each passing year. Two years ago, they weren't even half that. Now, thousands of men harass the realm and preach against the nobility and royalty of the realm."

"So what are you proposing?", Willem asked.

"The Reach have abandoned us. When I spoke to lord Jasper he reacted indifferently. Perhaps, he even supports them.", Sansa said.

"But why?", Sam Tarly finally butted in. "They are roaming his own lands. They will threaten him first, no?"

"Perhaps, he is more stupid than we think he is. The only reason he accepted my invitation was to discuss trade deals, but he wouldn't even hear of your plight. He doesn't recognize Bran as king because the Reach had no voice at the Great council.", Willem said. She had sent him to speak with the man and while his agreement to the terms of trade she needed, Sansa couldn't help but be angry at the words the man spoke of her own brother. His king.

"So....do you have any suggestions on how to fight these men?", she asked the small council of Bran the Broken, who had gathered in her solar.

"So you would support us then, queen Sansa?", Sansa ignored the irony in lord Tyrion's tone and answered.

"I have been rebuilding Moat Cailin and it is garrisoned by 500 men. They and the swamps of the Neck can keep my people safe. But I will lend men to the fight, as a gesture of good will."

What Sansa hadn't noticed was that the door to her solar was slightly open and one man heard all things said within. And that man wept tears of joy, hearing that his love yet lived. He forgot about his desire to strangle the life out of Tyrion Lannister. He forgot about the hatred he had for his sister and her happiness in the face of his misery. Hope was all that filled his heart. Hope for a second chance. A chance at redemption.

Later that night, Jon and Tormund took their horses and rode hard for White Harbor.


	8. A lone wolf in the big city

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The festival in honor of Rhaenys Targaryen's fifth nameday are on. Dany, her beloved Belle and her dearest daughter enjoy the day of festivities. Meanwhile Jon makes his way to Volantis and a sinister plot forces him to emerge from the shadows.

Life is good.

At least that is what Daenerys Targaryen thinks it is. For her anyways. 

The gardens of her palace behind the black walls are vast. She literally has a small forest in it with some artificial streams of water, flowing from one small hill to the next. According to her seneschal, it was designed by an architect from Yi Ti, where such things were built for the nobility's homes. Their purpose was to help one relax and frankly she agreed. It was very refreshing. The shades of the trees and the very atmosphere of the place made the humidity and heat of Volantis nonexistent within her new home. 

_Home._

Dany never had a home before. As a child, and later come to that, she tended to view the house with the red door in Braavos as home. That's the reason why she had all the doors here painted red and planted lemon trees in front of all the doors she could. And it was home to her. The garden was large enough for even Drogon to rest peacefully here. He still grew larger though much slower than before. _Perhaps even dragons have limits of how large they can become._ He was as large as Balerion the Dread was reported to have been. And no longer alone, for Missandor was always here, too. Rhaenys's dragon had grown into a magnificent creature - the scales of his back were azure in color and those of his belly and wings were golden. He was beautiful, so much so that many said that he was the most beautiful dragon to ever live. _How do they know that when they haven't even seen a dragon before? Though I suppose it is true._

Dany still remembers the way the little dragon clung to Rhaenys's shoulder. Constantly hissing at strangers and breathing small gusts of blue flames at them, as if knowing instinctively that he was her protector. _I will not always be here, but you will outlive us all._ She had told the dragon one day, a few years back. _Keep her safe._ He rubbed his head at her palms in understanding and Dany could have sworn that if he were a knight, Missandor would have been kneeling and swearing his vows at that moment. He always stayed close to her. Even when he grew too large to move comfortably inside the palace, he slept right next to Rhaenys's bedchambers. 

Even now, she could see her little girl running around and playing with the dragon. Dany often invited children from other families to come play with her, even those of her servants. And the kids her age were excited to be around dragons. Especially the massive Drogon. _I know that you hate others climbing on top of you, but please my son, bear with it._ She could swear that the dragon, many called the Winged Shadow, groaned in annoyance, but he remained docile. _Good. Tossing a noble child over the black walls from here would greatly inconvenience me._

Dany was currently laying her head in Belle's lap on one of the benches in the garden. There was a place, covered with marble floor, that held tables and some very comfortable benches for relax and just to stay outside comfortably. The heat and humidity of Old Volantis made it preferable to stay outside during the day. Court sessions, apart from emergencies, were held once every three days. _Surely they can contain their complaints long enough for me to enjoy myself. I have a daughter to raise after all._

One of her servants had brought a new pitcher with water and Dany thanked her. The woman had a black circle beneath her eye. That was the mark of the freedmen. Back when she ordered that there be no more slaves in Volantis, or any of her holdings for that matter, she had learned that slaves had markings on their cheeks. Each mark showed the purpose of the slave and prevented them from passing themselves as free. A tear for whores, a horsehead for stable workers and so on. She wanted to remove them, but it would have involved basically flaying them and leaving some nasty scars so Dany had ordered them covered with black tattoos, which would cover whatever markings they had. Black was neutral, her color and would cover well whatever their former masters had put on their faces. This way, while being former slaves would still be known, no one would be able to say what kind of slaves they were. It was not perfect but was certainly better. No slave's or noble's or freeborn's harassment went unpunished and after a few months into her rule, no harassment against former slaves or freeborn was reported. While she knew it would be some time before they learned to view each other as not former property and former masters, this was a good start.

"You are lazy.", Belle quipped, breaking the former silence. "You lie here, in my lap, while your triarchs rule in your stead."

"You were not complaining before. Besides, if it is something too urgent they will report to me. They know that they cannot keep secrets from me, thanks to Thanatos."

Thanatos was a red priest and shadowbinder adept at....spying using magical means, Dany did not fully understand. He was a strange man, but his magical power was unquestionable, judging by the confidence of Kinvara in him. The man was her spymaster and quite adept at his job, given how thanks to him, they had been able to quash a rebellion in Myr before it even began. He is a stout man, big and muscled. His skin so dark it was almost blue. He hailed from the Summer isles and had been sold as a slave to the Red temple of Tyrosh. He had approached her of his own volition when the city had finalized the agreement to join the New Freehold.

"Ah, yes. The queen knows all, they say. Queen of Volantis, Lys, Myr, Tyrosh, Pentos, Qohor. Won't you just call yourself Queen of the Nine Daughters and get it over with?"

After the conquest of Lys, she had begun negotiations with the rulers of the other cities in order to unite them without bloodshed. Seeing how easily she had taken the third strongest of the free cities, the negotiations were smooth. Apart from a few assassination attempts, obviously unsuccessful, she had easily done it.

Myr was the first one. Easy taking, given the fact that the two viceroys, that shall rule each city in her name, would always have one local person of authority. That was what was important. Supervision from here was essential, but it was just as important to let the people know that they would still be ruling themselves.

With Lys, that was the richest man there - Tregar Ormollen, whose chief concubine is Lynese Hightower. The former wife of ser Jorah. She didn't like the woman who made even Tregar's wife tremble, but in a way, without her, she would never have met her bear. With Myr it was easy, the strongest magister there became her local viceroy.

With Tyrosh, she had to declare the local viceroy to be the current Archon of Tyrosh and she did it. That was their sole demand after all and it wasn't so outrageous. She had the other viceroy to defend her interests after all.

Qohor was more stubborn, but she broke the goat, as Dany loves to joke about. Rigid people, who practice all sorts of magics and have many interesting artisans, their crafts are renowned all over the free cities. Pentos was brought over by her old friend, Illyrio Mopatis, who convinced the other magisters to throw off the Braavosi yoke and join her freehold. Greater profits is what convinced them, but whatever works, right? The Bloodless conqueror, some called her. A title she would carry with pride.

"I don't hold them all, yet. There are still Lorath, Norvos and....Braavos."

"I imagine that I will have to have a word with my cousin. To speak of your radiance." 

"Oh, how kind of you. What will you tell him? 'Hey cousin, join the freehold. It is safe. You will have to share power with a Volantene because the queen doesn't trust you one bit. She also wants to demand from the Iron bank blood money for past grievances. Otherwise, she will attack the city. Oh, and did I mention that I am fucking her.' Do you imagine this will make him join in?"

"Probably no.", Belle conceded. "But I think that he would like the close ties his family has to the new ruler."

"Close ties indeed." Dany giggled. "It is strange though. The Free cities all over are joining in and yet not a word from Braavos. You think the Iron Bank is putting pressure on him?"

"They might be. The bank has influence in all the cities. Get all the banks throughout the cities together and they still will be inferior to the Iron bank."

"But how can an institution get this powerful?", Dany was baffled. She oft wondered about the influence that bank had.

"The bank has existed as long as Braavos itself. Some say that the city itself grew around the bank. They have held sway over the economic world for centuries. The only time they were outmatched was during the Lysene Spring, when the Rogare bank prospered."

"How?"

"The sister of the owner of the bank had married the future king of Westeros, so the bank had obtained a whole new market."

"Westeros. Seven kingdoms and five major cities, bursting with potential for profits."

"And more. But after the fall of the Rogares, the Iron Bank moved in and took over all that the Rogare bank couldn't keep. Essentially everything. That increased the bank's influence and power even further. Putting it this way, if someone powerful cannot pay back any bank a particularly large loan, the bank bankrupts and its owner sells his wife and children into slavery to cover his debts. If someone powerful doesn't pay back the Iron Bank, they find themselves surrounded by rivals, eager to repay the bank. And well-funded by it come to that."

"The bank prospers on other people's backs." Dany concluded her lover's speech. "The powerful will always be able to abuse the powerless. And yet, it is the duty of the powerful not to do so."

"The most beautiful and kindest woman in the world is also the wisest it seems to me, your magnificence."

"Ohhh, so many titles I have. Do you have any interesting ones?"

"Well, apart from the Black pearl, apparently I have acquired another moniker among some Norvoshi merchants."

"And what's that?"

"The Inbred Queen's second cunt.", Dany frowned. She thought that in the free cities, people knew when to keep their mouths shut about things that do not concern them, but maybe she will have to teach them. "Apparently, one of those sailors, you rescued during the Battle for Lys, overheard them and alongside some others started a fight at Fishmonger's Square. One of the merchants lost an eye and the other lost something a bit more precious. The merchants left the city soon after." 

"Serves them right.", she quipped. Talking is not treason, she knew, but tolerating insults will give people the wrong opinions on the matter. "Where did you hear this?"

"From Allion. The man was too scared of telling you directly. One can't judge him, all things considered. You can be terrifying when angered, my love." Bellegere leaned in to kiss her, her right hand over her breast, fingers circling her nipple through her dress. Belle's left hand left for her more intimate places. 

"Stop this. We are in the gardens. Rhaenys is close by."

"She will not notice me giving some affections to her beautiful mother." Belle kept fondling her and Dany was ready to give in when...

"Muña." her daughter proved Belle wrong as she rushed towards them. A slight frown graced her face, as they had to abruptly stop and fix themselves. Though Dany knew that there was only one person who loved her daughter as much as she did and that person was Belle. "What are you doing, muña?"

"Lazing around is what she is doing.", Belle said, they have long since grown used to Rhaenys's terrible timing. "But at least she looks pretty."

"Oh, shut up." Dany picked her daughter up and embraced her. "And you my love? Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Yes.", her face lit up. "No more rain. I can play outside with Missandor." Daenerys knew that her little girl loathed the rain. Dany herself didn't mind, because she could find ways to....entertain herself inside. With Belle. But for Rhaenys it must have been boring as hell. Rhaenys gave her a kiss on her cheek.

"And won't you give me one, too. I am jealous, you know." Belle made a funny face.

"Yes, other muña. But first muña." Dany couldn't help but chuckle. 'Other mother' is how Belle is to Rhaenys. Another reason to love that woman is that she always helped Dany with her daughter. Daenerys knew how to raise dragons, but children....not so much. Belle always helped her. When Rhaenys suffered from a fever, it was she who helped Dany come to her senses when she was struck with worry. Dany can't help but laugh to herself when she remembers how they met. How Dany doubted every word from her mouth. After what happened with him, Dany thought that she couldn't be able to love anyone else but her daughter. The Black Pearl proved her wrong. She will always wonder which of the two fell in love with the other first. They were together now. Safe. The past behind her. That is all that matters.

This picture. Her daughter laughing. Belle tickling her feet and laughing with her. _I will protect this. Always._

"Are you excited about tonight, tala?", she asked her daughter.

"Kessa. It will be exciting right?"

"Oh, yes darling. It will most certainly be." It was still early but Dany had planned big festivities for the evening. There will be mummers and music and foods from all over. The whole city will be celebrating Rhaenys's 5th nameday. 

* * *

Jon was shocked when he heard it. He had been going to finally see his sister. To see his nephew. Or cousin or whatever. And then he overheard things that shocked him. Daenerys lives. His daughter lives. They both live. But how? "A stupid question from someone who came back from the dead, Jon Snow." is what Tormund said to him. And indeed it was. He had to go to them. To see her again. To beg her forgiveness. For her to....do what she wants with him. His life has been miserable ever since he killed her. At least, he wants to see her and their daughter. She must be nearing her 5th nameday.

When Jon overheard them talking, he heard them mention her nameday. 5th nameday. It is her. She is his child, he knew. He prayed that he could reach her in time, the voyage to Volantis was a long one. He wanted to arrive in time for the celebration. Daenerys most likely keeps her hidden from the world otherwise. He couldn't blame her. But that was also the probably the only opportunity he might have to see her. He had to, at least once. His daughter. His child.

As soon as he overheard all that, he began packing things and supplies for a journey. He knew that he would need to be careful and get out in the middle of the night. By the time they knew what happened, it would be too late. They took their horses in the middle of the night and rode hard for White harbor. There Jon and Tormund managed to book a passage on a Volantine ship, named the Crescent moon, whose owner was trading in the city. It took them selling their horses to him and promising to work on the ship, not to mention a lot of convincing, but the merchant agreed. 

"The queen might like to see some people from her homeland anyways.", he had quipped in the end, but Jon would not lift his hopes up if he were him. Daenerys hated surprises. Either way, the ship sailed towards Volantis. On the way, he heard that Daenerys had been conquering the free cities in the last five years. _Ever the conqueror of cities._ He had been miserable for five years while she was busy building an empire for their daughter. 

When the ship finally docked at one of the numerous ports of Volantis, he couldn't feel more strange. Both Tormund and he had to change their clothes for something less warm. The only thing that reminded him of Westeros was the multitude of Targaryen banners that hung everywhere. _You southerners mark everything with your bloody banners, like dogs pissing on trees._ He heard his friend say. The climate in Volantis was as different from the one in the North as day is different from night. The air was humid and dry. It was hot. _How do people survive here?_ Both of them wondered. The ship's owner rushed off for some business of his and Jon and Tormund were left alone.

The city was like a maze and without a guide, or knowing the language, they got lost fairly easy. Eventually, they found what appeared to be an inn and being hungry they entered. The coin they had served them well, for it seems that everywhere you go gold is still gold. They stayed there for as long as they could, hoping to find someone who spoke the language. Neither Jon nor Tormund understood a thing from Valyrian, any of the variants and whatever most people spoke sounded like gibberish to him. Eventually, they overheard someone singing a Westerosi song. The Bear and the Maiden Fair. His speech was way too fluid, so he had to be from Westeros. _Whatever. I just hope he knows the Common Tongue._

His name was Devin, a minstrel from the Reach who was celebrating him being hired to sing at the Palace of the Freehold.

"Haven't you heard? The Archon is making a grand feast for her daughter's nameday. There are going to be hundreds of people invited. Though thousands more are celebrating across the streets. A whole festival really. It is a great honor to be invited at the Palace of the Freehold. They pay good coin. People are going to learn my name."

The lad was jubilant and Jon was happy for him but wanted to ask his own questions, so he asked after the queen.

"She lives behind the black walls, along with the rest of the old blood. Only those who can prove descent from Old Valyria can enter. And those invited of course. Not for the likes of us, mate." Jon resisted snorting. "She has a massive palace there and they say her black dragon, as big as a castle, sleeps in the yard. Can you believe it?" 

Jon could. He knew that she will never let herself be anywhere without Drogon again.

"Hundreds of her Unsullied soldiers guard the black walls, they say, along with the Tiger cloaks of the city. The triarchs ride atop elephant to the Palace of the Freehold and two days ago I saw the queen riding her dragon there. It was amazing. I almost peed myself." 

"Where can we see her?", Tormund asked and Jon resisted the urge to glare at him for asking such an obvious question. _I have to look her in the eyes. If she knows I am here, she will send her guards to kill me without even letting me see her. Or my daughter._

"Unlikely to see her before the evening, mate. She is probably behind the black walls now. With her paramour, I imagine."

"Paramour?", Jon couldn't help but react the way he did. _She has.....replaced me._

"Yes, man. Haven't you heard? The Black Pearl of Braavos, the most beautiful courtesan in the world, they say, though I haven't seen her myself. She will be there though, at the festival, standing beside the queen like usual, I've heard."

"Can we come with you to the palace?"

"Of course. You two look strong fighters and I intend to make a lot of money there. Better to have some protection. Though you two better shave off that thing. I don't want us to be chased out." With great reluctance from Tormund and a little from Jon, they were led to a barber, who cut and oiled their heads and shaved Jon's beard. Upon reaching for Tormund's, Giantsbane grabbed the man by the hand and threatened to kill him. After a lot of pleading from Jon, Tormund agreed for his beard to be reshaped in a more fashionable way. 

"I am doing this for you, Jon." The wildling said and gritted his teeth as he lost parts of his beard.

And so their luck struck again and come the evening Tormund and he were guards of the minstrel. Devin's took a liking to Ghost and thankfully allowed him to remain in his room at the inn. _Sorry boy, but if you come with me, I will be recognized immediately._ Tormund offered some choice songs to him during the day but Devin refused. "I can't sing such songs in front of nobility. Let alone a five year old. They are going to burn me alive." _I certainly would._ Jon eventually found himself walking to the Palace of the Freehold. A colossal monolith built from marble and fused dragonstone, the palace was twice the size of Winterfell. Maybe three times larger. It was heavily guarded and Jon hoped not to be spotted by Unsullied, who could recognize him. None did.

They entered inside and all of them took a moment to marvel at the building they were in. They entered inside what appeared to be the throne room. It had been refashioned for the night though. As massive as the chamber was, Jon was certain it could contain hundreds of guests. There were many people already there, sitting or standing, all enjoying their food and beverages. A servant with an odd black tattoo on her cheek offered them drinks and they accepted.

"Haven't drunk anything better." Devin exclaimed, but Jon only heard Tormund's grumbling about _weak southron drinks._

"ALL RISE! THE ARCHON ENTERS!" a man, probably younger than Jon, shouted and all took attention. _Dany._

She entered the room and looked divine. Death had done nothing to her ethereal beauty. Her silver hair had been tied in many braids like before, her amethyst eyes shone with happiness, which gladdened his heart. She wore a red dress with black linings, made of what must have been the most expensive materials. A short black cape, clasped with a golden three-headed dragon brooch, hung on her back. A crown of red gold, each of its points a dragon head with gemstone eyes, rested atop her head. 

Beside her, hand through hers, walked a woman with light brown skin, orange eyes and black hair. She was dressed in a most expensive black dress and was adorned with expensive jewelry. _She has replaced me. With a woman._

Jon's mood sank until he spotted the little girl, which held Daenerys's other hand. She was a lovely little girl, the spitting image of her mother. Amethyst eyes and silver hair. Tall for her age. Dressed in a lovely red dress and a tiara of red gold upon her head. _My little girl. She is perfect._

The man from before spoke again: "Her Radiance, Daenerys of House Targaryen, The First of Her Name, Archon of the New Freehold, Queen of Volantis, Lys, Myr, Tyrosh, Pentos and Qohor, The Resurrected, The Unburnt, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons;  
Her Royal Highness, Rhaenys of House Targaryen, Princess of the Rhoyne, Daughter of Light and Fire and Heir to the Freehold;  
And Lady Bellegere Otherys, The Black Pearl of Braavos and dearest companion of the Archon." 

_Is this how they call it here? I suppose that polite society does not use words like mistress and paramour._

There they stood. Her family. His family. Happy and merry without Jon. They went towards the throne and when they stood at the front of their seats, Daenerys spoke:

"Thank you all, my esteemed guests for being here. It gladdens my heart to see you all attending this joyous occasion alongside my family and friends. But I won't bore you with long speeches today. Please, join us in celebration of my dearest daughter's fifth nameday."

Daenerys sat at the dragon-shaped throne. Bellegere Otherys sat to her right and Rhaenys to her left, beneath the spread wings of the throne. The table in front of them was filled with expensive foods and many nobles sat at it. Devin waited for his turn to sing, because the seneschal had given instructions that each of them would have a turn at a specific hour of the night. Devin's was the third, which did not discourage him.

Jon and the others were positioned not too far from the throne, but close enough so that his keen eyes could observe them. Little Rhaenys's eyes sparkled at the marvelous affair. Lights of all colors shined from colorful lanterns, hung by ropes. The minstrels played a lot of songs in languages Jon did not understand. Mummers presented plays, with Dany's obvious favorite being a play called the Bloody hand, which humorously depicted a fictionalized version of the events surrounding the War of the Five Kings. Daenerys laughed particularly loudly when the actor playing Robert Baratheon depicted his death. Even Jon laughed at that. _They knew what plays would gain her favor._

What followed was a procession of people bearing gifts for the royal family. Mostly for Rhaenys, as it was her day, but many brought tributes to her mother as well. Several men even gave some presents for the woman by Daenerys's side, much to Jon's inexplicable annoyance. The gifts were presented before the throne and taken away immediately by servants.

One man, dressed in dark purple clothing, close to black, approached them and Jon noticed Daenerys's eye twitch.

"You Grace, my name is Noho Dimittis and I am but a humble citizen of Braavos. I bring gifts to the silver queen and her lovely daughter on behalf of my employers at the Iron Bank.", the man bowed and Jon did not like him one bit. _Bankers are to the people of the Free cities what White Walkers were to the North, if what I have heard from the sailors on the Crescent moon was all true._ The man presented several things, mostly intricately made jewelry, like the others did, and his aide even revealed some tapestries, which Jon would never understand how the man could carry in the first place. In addition to all that, the aide presented a wooden sphere to Daenerys, which made her eyes twitch. Dimittis approached the throne with the orb and meant to hand it to Daenerys. Before that could happen however, a massive black hand grasped the sphere.

A man appeared out of nowhere and the people around him gasped in shock. All except for the three women at the throne. "What is this, Thanatos?"

"An attempt to assassinate you, mistress." The man named Thanatos squeezed the wooden sphere with one hand until it broke and he heard a loud screech. The pieces of wood fell apart as he revealed a manticore in his hand, which struggled to escape his grasp, albeit to no avail. No matter what the creature did, nor how much it stung him, Thanatos did not react. He might have paid more attention to a fly. His eyes barely twitched as his hand caught fire and the screeching of the manticore spread through the silent room. In a few tense moments, the flames died out and the big black-skinned man dusted his hands. "A failed attempt, that is."

"Do not be so certain.", the aide lunged at them with two daggers in his hand as Dimittis ducked away and the crowd allowed itself to scream. Little Rhaenys screamed as well and without thinking Jon sprinted towards the would-be assassin and, by some miracle, he managed to grab ahold of him at the steps of the throne. The man was not as strong as Jon was and he managed to knock him out, by kicking the aide's jaw with his knee.

"Thank you, good man. I was not in trouble, for he would have died before reaching me, but your bravery shall be rewarded. State your name.", Daenerys spoke calmly.

Jon raised his head to see her. Her face froze, the shock in her eyes evident.

"Jon.....Snow?", her voice trembled, whether in anger or fear he did not know.

"Hi, Dany."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Courtesy of the Valyrian to English dictionary: muña - mother  
> tala - daughter  
> kessa - yes
> 
> I made up Thanatos as I was writing this chapter. I thought that she needed a spymaster, who was loyal to the queen and was actually good at his job. He has magic after all. And is far more powerful than Melissandre by the way.  
> For those wondering, Dany's crown is fashioned after her father's crown. I know that symbolism is bad, but I saw it on wiki of ice and fire and I just loved it.  
> I couldn't resist not portraying the Bloody hand performance. Those of you who have watched season 6 scenes with Arya know what that is.  
> Jon's jealousy and his and Tormund's coming to Volantis I really loved to portray, almost as much as the scenes between Dany, Belle and Rhaenys. I may be a bit of a softy when it comes to these three, but Jon will join eventually too. Promise.  
> I hope the reunion was as awesome as I hope you expected it to be. It took a lot of planning to figure out how to reunite them.


	9. The Reunion of the Dragon and the Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title says it all.  
> Multi POV  
> I may be unable to write a chapter in the coming days because I have to study for exams.  
> PS: The bloody site glitched while I was posting and because I did not have a copy I had to write it all over again, so this chapter is different from the original version. The content is still pretty much the same though.

Jon Snow stood before her. Her killer. The man she loved. The father of her child. Her killer. Their killer. Hate was racing through her blood like a poison. Her daughter's nameday celebration interrupted by assassins. How dare they? The Braavosi were in the dungeons with Daario, enjoying his company. Or rather the one of his torture instruments. What the fuck were they thinking? _I have survived numerous assassinations. And they don't even send a faceless? Am I supposed to be relieved or insulted?_ It is not like they can hide the fact that it were people of Braavos to do it. Perhaps, they were hoping to use the chaos of her demise to dismantle her empire. Not too stupid, she had to admit. Dany prided herself on her ability to step into other people's shoes in order to understand how they think, how they would react in certain situations. Which is an extremely useful skill to have for a ruler. That is why she hated the way the evening had turned out. Who could have predicted that assassins would assault her and that Jon Snow would be here?!

She had chased everyone out of the throne room. As inappropriate as it was, most of the entertainment was already over, so it was not so bad. Little Rhaenys was scared but after Dany and Belle convinced her that all was well they entrusted her to Grey Worm, whose Unsullied would protect her. Just in case there were more attempts at assassinating them, Dany had given the order to lock down the black walls. Her little girl will be safe.

 _We are safe. Belle is safe. Rhaenys is safe. I am safe._ And in part thanks to Jon Snow. His eyes were staring right at her. He was there. Her killer. Her savior. The Northern fool. The man she thought she loved. The man she still loves, despite what good sense was telling her. He stood there watching as she sat on her throne with Bellegere at her side. Judging her?! _Is he jealous of Belle?_ The occasional dirty looks he was throwing her were a clear indication of that.

The silence was suffocating. Unbearable. It had to be broken, but she did not want to be the one to do it. Jon relieved her of that burden.

"I thought you said that we will be alone. What is that woman doing there?", he looked at Belle. _At least he is not pointing like a peasant._

"Woman? Ha! Is that meant to insult me? I would return the slap, if I took you for a man.", Dany had to suppress her laughter at that. Belle has a way with words. 

"Who told you?", he looked confused at Dany's question. _Some things never change_. "Who told you that I live? That we live."

"No one really. I overheard Sansa and Bran and his small council talking about it in Winterfell. I had to come here. To see you. And our daughter."

"My daughter. Not yours. You did not raise her. You have dragged yourself here, for what, to steal her from me?"

"Dany, how can you think that? What kind of a man do you think I am?"

"The man who murdered me. The man who killed me and my daughter in my belly. A spineless fool who only talks about honor."

"I never would have hurt you if I knew you were having a child.", he defended himself. As difficult as it were for him to end her life, if he knew that she was caring their child, he would have not been able to do it.

"So what? You honor would have made you drag me kicking and screaming and tie me to a bed until I gave birth and then slit my throat?"

"Stop this." he shouted and the guards pointed their spears at him. She waved them off. "You burned an entire city. Thousands of innocent men, women and children burned. Why did you do it?"

"Why? You ask that? You know why, even if you will not admit it. It all started when I went to save your home. Your people, those ungrateful sons of whores. Your family, suspicious and mistrusting, they never liked me. They hated me In fact. And all because I was different. Because I was a Targaryen, the daughter of the Mad king. The man who burned your uncle and grandfather - men who they never knew. I did not judge their ancestors for their sins against mine, I expected them to give me the same courtesy."

"Now you are just deflecting."

"Deflecting, you say?", she seethed and Jon could see he was unnerving her. _You are not without your sins, Jon._ He told himself. "And what were you doing while your bitch of a sister conspired against me? What were you doing when your bannermen spat at my feet, because I haven't forgotten that little incident? Nothing, just shrugged it off with one of those sorry smiles of yours, like a beaten dog, all because you wanted them to like you. To prove to them that the bastard has some worth. That you are worthy of their respect. Look where it brought you."

"You think that I do not regret it? Hah? Of course I do. If I could go back and fix things, I would. Alas here we are."

"Another throne room. Another throne. No blood rights. No burned cities. Just us.", Dany gave voice to her thoughts.

"With another by your side.", he said, clearly indicating Belle.

"Yes, that's how things are. I love her, that is all. And you, huh, what did you think was going to happen? That I would just greet you with open arms and legs, my cunt moist for your member, as if you are the only other person in the world?", she was exasperated at his naivety. "She stands by my side and supports me, whereas you just stood there and did nothing as your fucking Stark family hated me. Hells, you even made it look as if I forced you to bend the knee to come fight with you."

"You never gave me a clear answer. Why did you burn the city? They had surrendered Dany. There was no need. Seven hells, Cersei's soldiers would have dragged her out, chained and naked to you, just like Argella Durrandon was dragged in front of Orys Baratheon."

"Targaryens, bastards and would-be queens. Looks like some things tend to repeat themselves.". she quipped. 

He continued, without paying mind to what she had said: "Instead you had them burned. Men, women, children. Little children burned, buried under ash and broken rocks, butchered."

"You can hold that last part for yourself. I seem to recall that your own men took a great part of the butchery. Your honorable Northerners."

"You started it. They were men."

"Yes, yes, yes. Men prone to savagery if left unchecked. I did what I did out of anger and spite. I did it because I was grieving. My friends," tears began forming in her eyes at the memory "Missandei who was like a sister to me, ser Jorah and so many others. My allies, lady Olenna and the Sands. My Rhaegal, my child I entrusted you with, would still live. If I had attacked the capital from the start, instead of listening to the advice of Varys, Tyrion and you, they would still be alive. I failed them and for what? That wretched city fell in less than an hour. I was weak, I showed mercy and fear for the lives of the so-called innocents and look where it got me. It made me look weak - me, a woman with three dragons - weak. I needed to prevent others from rising in revolt against me and just as Westeros educated me, it understands only fear."

"So that's why you did it? To prevent more revolts? To make them fear you."

"Westeros only ever listens to tyrants, it seems to me. The so called innocents allowed people like Cersei to stay in power. They did not even attempt to overthrow her, even though they knew what kind of a monster she was. They needed a tyrant. I gave them one. I needed to be strong. And I made a mistake, adjusting to the way Westeros works, that I will forever regret, almost as much as ever coming to Westeros in the first place."

Jon was stuck speechless. She was not wrong. After everything Jon has seen, he couldn't say she was. She was not right. It was not right. But she was not wrong.

"Tell me....back in the crypts....how did you feel when you heard who I was? My real identity as your brother's son."

"I reacted wrongly, I admit. I should have supported you, though your timing for identity crisis was terrible. I was thinking only of that you could be used as a threat against me. Of how it was a threat to my claim. My own allies' loyalties were dubious at best. Tyrion was no longer as fervent in his support as he used to be. Varys's judging stares did not escape my attention. I needed you to keep quiet about it until later. When it was safe for me. But no, you had to tell it to everyone, right?"

"Dany...I...Ned Stark had always been like a father to me, whether real or not, he was the man who raised me. The pinnacle of manhood for me. A man without fault. And then, I learn that he was not. That my father was Rhaegar Targaryen, your brother and my aunt, thought of being raped by him, eloped with him in fact."

"Ah, yes. My brother. Tell me, which one do you admire more. Rhaegar, who left behind and delegitimized his wife and children for another woman, or Lyanna, the little northern whore, who eloped together with a married man." she saw Jon frown and kept going. "I mean, unless she had lived in a cave till the tourney at Harrenhal then she must have known that he had a wife and two children."

"I do not excuse what they did. The lovesick fools tore the realm apart. They are the cause for thousands of lives lost, a dynasty fallen. The first thing I thought of when I learned was that they were the cause for your stolen childhood."

"We can agree upon that at least.", she took a deep breath. She knew that he loved her and yet he was not good at showing it. She took a deep breath. "You do realize that if your fucking BIGOTS of a people showed me one OUNCE of appreciation, for saving their miserable lives....if your sister was not hell-bent on conspiring against me....perhaps things would have ended up differently?!"

"It was our battle. All our battle, not just mine. But you are right. It is you who truly saved us all. And I know that the whole realm wronged you. I am sorry, for that I have no excuse." He knew it, deep down perhaps they did too. _She failed us. And we failed her first._

"All those around me began to fail me. Tyrion, Varys, you.... I was surrounded in a foreign land, with people who despised me. People who hated my very existence. They just wanted to use me and my armies as meat shields and then toss me aside like a used up whore. I hate it. That most of all. Being used and then cast aside."

"You were not the only one used.", Jon said, barely holding his own emotions in check. "I allegedly saved the realm and they were more than eager to banish me to the Watch to rot away so that they could erase our names. The great heroes, whose was the song of ice and fire, saved the world and then were cast aside."

"Since when are you a poet?", she asked, some of her previous hostility gone.

"I was trapped there, beyond the Wall, a prisoner of my own guilt. Of my own failings. I had a dream of a hollow tree. There I discovered two things." He removed one of the swords strapped to his back, covered well in cloth. "This is the sword Dark Sister. I believe is was meant for you.", he put it on the ground and one of the servants immediately picked it up and brought it to Daenerys.

"What was it doing in a cave beyond the Wall?"

"It was brought there by the man I met, one of our ancestors. Or his spirit rather?"

Confused was too soft a word for the way she felt but she asked anyway. "Which one?"

"Brynden Rivers, also known as Bloodraven. One of the infamous Great Bastards of Aegon the Unworthy. He was Bran's predecessor as the three-eyed-raven. He is the man, who showed him how to use his abilities. He communicated with me in a way beyond my understanding. He showed me how it was Sansa who betrayed my trust, just like you said she would, and told Tyrion my secret. He said that because of Bran's inexperience, the Night King managed to mark him. That mark allowed the Night king to breach the Wall, by breaking the Wall's spells as soon as Bran went back south through it."

A feeling was bubbling inside Daenerys now. One different from before. Pure amusement. "AAAAhhahaahha. Ahh, you Starks are truly something. You - the oathbreaker and queenslayer, Sansa - the bitch-schemer, Bran - who almost doomed the whole world and Arya - the little assassin girl. Ned Stark must be spinning in his grave. His children are such massive disappointments."

"Aerys, on the other hand, must be very impressed with you for doing what he couldn't." Daenerys's face twitched in fury and Jon realized that they had gone too far. "I am sorry. That was cruel of me."

"I suppose I went a went too far, too.", she apologized to his surprise as well. _You weren't wrong though._ He thought.

"Tell me, how did you move on. Apart from the obvious.", she raised an eyebrow. 

"Careful now, I told you I will not tolerate insults against her."

"I did not mean to insult you.", he corrected himself. "I mean....the guilt....let's face it Dany, both of us screwed up a great deal. I failed you and you broke. We are guilty as hell. But you...you are thriving. You built an empire for our little girl. Because I know that, just like the lords you loath so much, you want to build a legacy. And you did it. How did you move on from the past?"

Daenerys did not expect that question. How to move on? "She didn't." Another voice included herself in the conversation. "That's why she had made the Westerosi leave her alone. That is why she never wanted revenge. That is why she didn't burn Westeros as soon as she could. She hated herself for what she did, even if she will never fully admit it. She hates herself for being weak enough so that Westeros could turn her into a cruel monster of their own making. I know enough of history to know that people do not need dragons or the excuse of alleged madness to commit atrocities, to set cities aflame and butcher scores. People do these things all the time. She however never really moved on from what she did, that is why Dany chose to forget the past. To drown the guilt with goodness, with greatness, with what she intends to build - a better world. You cannot correct your mistakes, you can only learn from them and try to do better."

"And you fell for her? Knowing what she did?" 

"I have seen her for what she really is. A good woman with a terrible past. Quite a lot of these out there."

_Bellegere Otherys seems to be more than just a pretty face. Stop it Jon, she is the woman who took your place by Dany's side. You mustn't grow fond of her._

"Will you ever forgive me for all I have done? For all I haven't done?"

"Of course.", Dany said and for a split second Jon made himself believe that everything would be just fine. Then a sinister look graced her face. "When the sun rises from the west and sets in the east. When the Narrow sea goes dry. When the glories of Old Valyria rise from the ashes of the Doom. Only then will I forgive you."

Jon smiled, an act which surprised Belle and Dany both. "You have already made good steps in doing the last of these. Now all I need to do is wait for the sun to rise in the west."

"And for the Narrow sea to go dry. Don't forget that.", Belle reminded him cheerfully and Daenerys frowned. "What? He caught you there.", her smile melted her frosty frown. "Dany, my love, you need to move on. Both of you. You need to truly put the past behind you. It is the only way."

_She has Dany's affections. She loves her and vice versa. Then why am I beginning to like this woman?_

"And you believe that is possible? That I can move on. That....what....I can accept him back and in the presence of Rhaenys? That I can trust him not to hurt her again?"

"Does she even know that I exist?", Jon had to ask. Strangely enough, he hadn't asked himself that question.

"Daughter of Light and Flame, didn't you hear?", Daenerys asked. "She is too young for the birds and bees talk anyways. She and I were resurrected and given life by the Lord of Light. If she has to have a father, let if be a god."

"She needs two parents.", he argued.

"She has. A mother", she pointed towards herself. "And 'Other Mother'.", she pointed towards the other woman. "Or are you implying that one needs be a man?"

Jon knew better than to argue on that front. "I am her father. I need to see her. I want to get to know her. I promise you, I will never hurt her. Please, give me a chance. One chance, that's all I ask for."

Daenerys appeared to be contemplating it. She stared at him, her face never changing but eventually she nodded. "If and I say IF I agree to this, there will be certain conditions."

"Like?"

"One chance. To atand alongside us. Fail me and that's it." He nodded. "I will invite you to live in my palace. It is quite spacious so we won't have to meet constantly. Your wildling friend can come, too. He seems amusing. Rhaenys is always guarded. And so will you - constantly watched. One wrong move and I feed you to the dragons. And absolutely no telling her that you are her father, not yet. I will decide when and IF I will tell her this. You will have to earn it."

"I swear. I will do whatever it takes to redeem myself. For us to be family again. I will never hurt you or Rhaenys ever again."

"You better keep that particular oath, because if you don't....well, you know our house words, I hope. I may forgive you, eventually, Jon, but I will not forget. You best keep that in mind as well."

"I will."

"Tell me though....if I have one regret it is....breaking everyone's hopes of a better Westeros. Could you forgive me for that? I must have been quite the disappointment in the end."

"That's the thing Dany. You said it yourself. These people, the so called Innocents prefer the rule of despots than of revolutionaries. Their rulers most of all. And nobody there is doing anything about it. Well, except for these new rebels I have heard about, but let's face it, Westeros is a lost cause. They don't want us. Why should we force them to change their ways? Fuck Westeros."

Dany laughed in a way that made Jon reminisce about the past. "I guess we can make that our new house words. It is a new branch after all, House Targaryen of Volantis."

"Oh, how cute. See, you are already understanding each other.", Dany gave her a look as if asking _are you mocking me._ Jon on the other hand began to like the woman more and more. _At least she is good for her. Perhaps that is enough._ Jon thought but he knew that he was lying to himself. He was hopeful though. Perhaps they could raise their daughter together. She said 'our' house after all. Jon allowed himself to imagine the future and for the first time in five years he did not despair.

Their hearty laughter was interrupted when Daario entered. "Magnificent queens.", he greeted them. Despite Belle being the queen's new lover, Daario and she had become friends. His feelings about Jon on the other hand, "Traitorous bastard. Are we killing him?"

"No, my friend. Only if he disappoints me again.", he frowned but kept his opinion to himself. "Tell me now, what did the Braavosi say?"

"Turns out that this Dimittis knew nothing of the plot. I am inclined to believe him." _Tortured him until you were sure, you mean._ "And his aide, whose name was Jacko or something, was hired by the bank to kill you in exchange for them covering his debts and setting his family up for life in case of success. Obviously that is not happening."

"You know what that means right, love?", she asked Belle and the Braavosi woman nodded.

"War."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that everyone is happy with this.  
> I hope that I covered all the major points of their conflict.  
> And I hope that I you like the present day Jonerys line I am starting here.  
> If I had to separate this fic into parts, this would be most certainly the end of the first part.
> 
> Happy Holidays!!!!


	10. A dragon in wolf's clothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And I am back with another chapter. Sorry for the long delay.

Volantis was a queer place to him. It was laughable for someone like him to say so, for he has never truly lived anywhere except for the North and Beyond the Wall. Not that it mattered. Daenerys and their daughter lived here and so he was going to get used to the place. That was it. Tormund on the other hand had left for the North once again. Jon had to hand it to him, he did not believe the wildling able to survive the Volantene climate for so long. Ghost was not faring too well either but he was adapting, albeit slowly. He had been very sluggish in his movements in the first week but gradually he became more and more active.

It had been 4 moons since Jon and Dany had been reunited. It was a...tense reunion to say the least. But she had not killed him nor banished him so it was a good sign. She even let him stay in her home in order to get close to their daughter. Even though he was followed by Unsullied guards, ready to skewer him with their spears or shortswords at a moment's notice, that did not bother him. Watching his little girl play in the gardens let him forget they were even there. At least until they poked him with their spears when they felt the need to remind him of the limits to his contact with Rhaenys. Jon hated that, but he knew he had to earn Dany's trust once more and this time there was no immediate threat of the White Walkers and he had been the one to kill them. Daenerys and Rhaenys, mother and daughter. 

Daenerys on the other hand was a mystery to him. As per usual. 

Her moods, around Jon at the very least, were ever shifting. Sometimes she would say that giving her Rhaenys was the only useful thing he has ever done with his life. Other times she would lament over how things could have been different if he weren't so spineless. And sometimes she would speak of her grief, of how lonely she was at first without him. 

Whatever she said, it always made Jon feel guilty. He could no longer defend what he did. The argument of a city burned and for his cousins to live was getting so old to him. It was strange, how it started sounding so irrelevant. But it did. He tried not to think about that. Daenerys's feelings on the matter were also strange - on one hand, she regretted burning King's Landing, but on the other, she had moved on from all that. It was strange to him. The way she could move on from the past. He was so jealous of that skill of hers.

Setting his feelings on the matter aside, Jon's thoughts drifted on other things, chiefly - Braavos. The city had sent envoys to Volantis to beg her forgiveness, to say that they had nothing to do with the assassins, but Daenerys was not receptive of their excuses:

"If you can't control your own people, what use are you? The Iron Bank sent these men to kill me. They became my enemies once more, only instead of backing my enemies they became such. If they want me to forget this, they should do the only thing they can - dangle gold in front of the problem to make it go away."

The envoys looked somewhat relieved when she said so and Jon was visibly shocked that she would accept blood money, knowing her temper, but then she said again: "100 million golden dragons in reparations for the threat to my person as well as the submission of Braavos in joining the New Freehold and recognizing me as their queen."

They balked at that statement. Jon was not certain how much 100 million golden dragons were, but he remembers when Tyrion once told him how Westeros owed 6 million to the Iron Bank and said it was a massive amount. This was almost 20 times that. When they started blabbering how the Bank would never pay such a price, Daenerys simply smirked: "Very well, noble lords. When the sky falls down upon your city, you will know why. Leave my city now."

And so it was that they were preparing for war. Again. She had gathered her generals, people who Jon learned called themselves Tigers, inside the Throne room of the Palace of the Freehold. A massive table made of marble stood before the seat of power and everyone was gathered around it. Upon the table stood a massive map that showed a detailed description of the Free Cities, with the focus being Braavos itself. Frankly the whole scene reminded him of the planning for the Battle of Winterfell all over again. Except this time it was Daenerys who spoke, while Jon, like most present, kept silent. 

"Do we have any news from Norvos and Lorath?", she asked one of the triachs. Frankly, Jon could not remember any of their names.

"Just as you foresaw, Your Radiance. It seems that they have decided to support Braavos and overthrow the yoke of Valyrian imperialism from the Free cities."

"Hah. The ones 'suffering' do not seem to mind.", another chimed in and sniggering was heard all around him. Daenerys just made a wry smile.

"How is it that they know of my plans to alter my titles a bit, as soon as I take all the Free cities?", she asked. "Perhaps they have soothsayers." 

"Either way," Another man began to speak after he managed to stop himself from laughing. "we will have to take them seriously. We would need to take all the three cities."

"Don't make it sound so scary, Maegyr." An older man, one with a bushy moustache said in a somewhat condescending tone. "The Lorathi are going to run away as soon as they see our troops. The Norvoshi are slightly better than your average rabble, but it is Braavos that we should care for. As soon as the Titan falls, the others will submit faster than you could change your cape."

"Be that as it may," The man, called Maegyr, spoke again. "We still have to take it. Braavosi landscape makes it difficult to invade the city by land. We will need to force entry beneath the Titan's Pass and you know full well the speed with which the Arsenal of Braavos can produce war galleys. No doubt they are making as many as they can even now."

"Ships are made of wood and wood burns." A short fat man said. "It is true that it would have been best if the city did not back that wretched bank of theirs, but we can beat down Valyria's bastard daughter. Our combined fleet makes for more than 2000 ships. No one in history has had such a fleet since the days of the old freehold. And no matter how much gold the Iron Bank offers, no sellsword will ever stand against the queen, ever since she single-handedly wiped out the Golden Company."

Jon saw Dany's face twitch at the reminder of King's Landing. Jon himself vaguely remembers the Golden Company. Varys had told them that Cersei had managed to hire them and their troops had been staring at them in front of the city gates, before Daenerys blasted them open and turned the famed sellswords to ash. He never saw any elephants.

"Yes," Daenerys spoke after fixing on her queenly mask. "I seem to recall that some former Golden Company members had sold their elephants to my menageries.", she sighed. "So we do not expect for there to be any sellswords there?"

"No, Your Worship." Another taller man spoke. "It is the fleets of Braavos that we will face. Norvos can muster no more than 20 000 soldiers. Lorath is unlikely to offer any real resistance."

"Good. Then we shall proceed this way: Elladio Maegyr and Ornell Vanerys will take an army of 30 000 and lay siege on Norvos, take it if you deem that our losses will be minimal, but preferably wait until I arrive. In the meantime, I shall lead our fleets to Braavos itself. The ships will clash with theirs, while I take care of the Arsenal and force the city to submit."

They all murmured in agreement and what followed was the logistics of the fighting itself. What Jon considered his victory, as small as it was, was being able to convince Daenerys to let Jon lead a regiment of soldiers in the battle at Braavos. As soon as the war council was over, they left for Dany's Palace. 

The building was enormous and was easily the size of a castle. In fact, it was almost as large as Winterfell. And there was a sight for sore eyes. Little Rhaenys playing with her not-so-small dragon. They were taking turns chasing one another. It was a lovely sight, even though he knew that Daenerys took great pleasure in depriving it from him. He knew she hated him. She had said it to him all those months ago and she meant it. Giving him a chance of redeeming himself to her and being a part of their family was not the same as forgiveness. As absolution. A dragon did not forgive and she certainly did not forget. He could not blame her. 

Even Jon Snow knew that much.

Daenerys had sat in her lounge in her solar, where she had invited him. The room had an excellent view of the courtyard, where their daughter was playing. By the time Jon had entered inside the building, he noticed through the window that Rhaenys was playing with some other children.

"Gaemyr and Joelyx.", She muttered. "Odd names, I know. But those two are the only ones brave enough to play with a dragon. Boys at least. You would be surprised how people, who love to boast of having dragon blood, are actually scared of live dragons."

"I wouldn't." Jon could not help but flash back to little Arya who wanted to have a dragon and then turned into one who was so afraid of them that wanted to murder their mother. "People tend to be scared of their idols."

"indeed. I think that those two fancy her though. They are so young and still they think of such things."

"Or their parents rather?", Jon questioned. He knew full well how that worked, on both sides of the Narrow sea. He still remembered how Lord Karstark had brought his daughter Alys to Winterfell, hoping to seduce Robb. They were not much older than Rhaenys is now. "Seems some things stay the same, no matter where you live."

"Power attracts people like moths to a flame. And who has more power than a dragon?!"

"No one.", Jon replied. "Still I imagine that we will have to let her choose someone for herself one day."

Daenerys turned to look at him, her eyes spelling her feelings of being annoyed. "My daughter will be no one's child bride. And she will choose her own spouse. Is that clear?" He only nodded, their feelings on the matter in alignment. "Good. Not that your opinion on the matter is worth much to me, but I am glad to see that you are somewhat sensible on occasion."

 _You know nothing, Jon Snow._ Aye, he didn't. But he still learned sometimes.

"Why did you want to talk with me?"

"I was just curious...how is Westeros faring?"

"Don't you have spies?"

"I do. Thanatos sees all thanks to his spells. But I was curious of your view."

"Bad, I imagine. I heard of some rebels in the South. Some people who apparently want to kill nobles. Can't say I blame them."

"Neither can I. I bet they don't even realize how it came about.", Jon gave her a confused look. "Oh, don't give me that. Ever since Robert Baratheon died, the Seven Kingdoms have been at war with one another. First, there was the War of the Five Kings, where the Lannisters, Baratheons, Starks and Greyjoy butchered one another, devastated the coasts and the Riverlands, damaged the economy of Westeros in such a way. Then there was the Night King, Cersei and....me. And all those wars were wage because of the claims of some nobles to a throne. Surely you see how ridiculous it sounds to people who are not highborn. You know, the vast majority of the population of Westeros."

"I don't understand."

"Of course you don't. I had forgotten what that means too, all because a life as a highborn does that to us. Say what you will about your childhood but you were raised in a castle, never starved and were always protected by tall walls. Those who have to run for their lives and feed from the scraps others leave behind....they view the world differently. I did too, before I became one of the highborns, the ones with power and wealth. That slowly but surely corroded my way of thinking and made me forget the one undeniable truth."

"What's that?"

"The many outnumber the few.", she smirked. "But you are right. I am right. The peasantry is used to their metaphorical chains. They don't care who rules them as long as they have health, food on their tables, roof over their heads and some gold in their purse. They don't care who lords over them if those conditions are met - be it a mad tyrant or a benevolent sovereign."

"But Dany---"

"Jon, let's be reasonable. My father, the Mad King, do you know for how many years he ruled?", he didn't. "21 years! 21, Jon! And from what I hear nobody cared if he was mad. Well, granted in the first years, he was just vain and stupid, but then he became mad and burned people alive. Publicly. Did people rebel the first time when he burned an innocent? The second? The third? 

No. The people, nay the lords rebelled when one of their own was murdered and the peasantry followed them blindly, as they always do. Fighting and killing for some people they never even met. Doesn't it seem ridiculous to you? To fight other people's battles?"

"Dany, where are you going with this? Aye, we live in a ridiculous world, but that's how things are. The powerful will always rule over the powerless. It is the way of the world. That will always be so, even you cannot change that. The best you can strive for is to instill the powerful with a sense for responsibility over the powerless."

She smiled to him. And that was neither her sardonic smile, which he had grown used to, or the cruel one that cut deeper than Valyrian Steel. "Yes. This is precisely the only solution to that. This is the country I am trying to build. An empire that encompasses all the Free cities and the Bay of Dragons. An empire ruled by just rulers. The far-fetched dream of a little girl, that once roamed the Dothraki Sea, looking for a throne made of swords. But that girl grew up. That girl is now a woman with a much clearer vision."

"And I would love to be by your side as you fulfill it.", he admitted. "But Dany, why were you talking about Westeros? It is in chaos. Bran lost most of the kingdoms already and these rebels will do only more damage to Westeros. And I am certain that you are enjoying the fact that Westeros is destroying itself, thanks to the 'honorable' Starks, whether you admit it or not...."

"Oh, I am admitting it."

"....but why are we even talking about all this?"

"Because Jon, when I invade Braavos I want that sensible Jon. The one I have seen at the War council, the one who would destroy his enemies, not the one who begs me for mercy for those who would destroy me if they could."

"You have me. I will not fail you again."

"I know. I will make certain that you don't. You see....I am currently fighting my skepticism over trusting you. Part of me wants to give you another chance, while the other wonders why haven't I killed you yet. But I know....I need to move on. That is why Braavos is your chance to prove to me that we can start anew. I am tired of suspicion. I am tired of doubt. I want peace. And I have almost achieved that, all but for you. I need you to prove to me that you can be the father that Rhaenys needs, the warrior, the protector who would destroy all those who threatened her. All those who would stubbornly stand against us must fall. Can you be that man, Jon?"

He got on his knee. "Yes and I will not fail our family again."

"And what is your family? Name it!"

"House Targaryen."

"We will see.", she sat back into her seat. "Go now. Play with our daughter, for she seems bored with her companions. If you prove yourself, I may consider telling her who you really are. Though I would rather omit that one moment of....treachery against your own blood."

Jon left the solar, his heart pounding in his chest. He will not screw this up. Not again.

* * *

As soon as Jon left her solar, Thanatos emerged from the shadows as Daenerys took a sip from her cup of wine. "Well? Is he honest?"

"He is. I spelled this chamber so that none could lie here, you know this. And he seems more certain in himself than you give him credit for. Are you sure that this is the same man you described to me, when we first talked about him?"

"Obviously not. He has changed. It was obvious. For moons now. He is different. No longer that annoying self-doubt. No longer eager to impress those not worthy of it."

"Then why play with him, mistress?" The coal skinned man asked.

"He murdered me. He betrayed me. He let himself be used against me.", she glanced at him. "I believe I have earned the right to mess with him a little bit. Only for my amusement of course.", he gave her a wry look. "What? If I intended to kill him, I would have done so the day he arrived. But I wanted to be certain that he was worth it. That the wolf had finally turned into a dragon."

"And he has, though I can't say for certain what he would choose to do, if faced with a conflict between this part of his family and the other one."

"Let's hope it does not come to that. He seems to no longer care for his cousins. At least from what I have heard him say, which is good. So much better than to have to tell him of Arya Stark's demise."

Thanatos's vast network of spies had managed to locate Arya Stark. The little bitch had actually managed to cross the Sunset Sea and reach eastern Essos. Pretty impressive, she had to admit, but Arya Stark was dangerous. Her skills as a Faceless Man, even half-baked one, were problematic. So when she heard of how Arya had decided to end Dany's life once more, the Queen of Volantis had Thanatos use his magic to intercept Arya Stark with an assassin of his own. Shadowbinding was such a useful skill she finds. And a master of magic like Thanatos could produce one with such an ease. Granted he needed some of Dany's blood, whose Valyrian properties apparently allowed the shadow creature to travel as far as Qarth for her purpose, but oh was it worth it?! The irony of it all - an unseen assassin being killed by an unseen assassin. Priceless.

Dany admired the little warrior woman. Her story was one not too dissimilar to her own. A story of survival. In another life, they could have been friends. But the moment the little bitch decided to murder her and her little girl, Arya Stark forfeited her right to live. Neither in the new world she was building nor the old one.

"Do you want to hear the latest things I saw in Westeros?"

"Do tell."

"The Young are spreading their message. And the Broken King and his foolish servants find it hard to persuade the smallfolk to fight against their own. Especially when the Young's leaders are so charismatic."

"I sure hope so." The Breaker of Chains smirked. "We did choose them rather well. Oh, how easy was it to make it all start crashing down upon them. And all it took was but a simple question."

_What if there were neither Lords nor Kings?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, surprise. Guess you did not expect that Dany was the one to indirectly create the Young.  
> Sorry for killing Arya offscreen, but i did not know what do do with her in this story.


	11. Titanomachia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon accepts who he is now; Daenerys concludes her conquest.

The voyage had not been easy. Leading a fleet of hundreds of ships was never easy. Jon had no experience in leading fleets, but thankfully his command was nominal. Well, at least until they actually landed on Braavos and began the assault in earnest. Until then, everyone took their orders from Eleksus Doukas, appointed by Daenerys, Admiral of the First Fleet. Daenerys had began centralizing authority within her dominions. While people from Westeros, Jon included at first, would see that as tyranny, in truth, was just better thinking. The chief weakness of Westeros, he had began to think, was the collective irresponsibility of its rulers. Feudalism was a massive web of allegiances, which in theory, all ended with the king, but in fact was often cut in places and during war it was chaos. A lord often had to choose whether to side with his liege lord, or their liege's liege lord come to that, or the king.

Instead of allowing her dominions to be chaotic like that, Daenerys had begun slowly to organize everybody into working together. Take the fleet for instance. Instead of each city having a personal fleet, there was one massive fleet, divided into several smaller ones, which while seemingly the same, was different. They were all a single organization, instead of a several different ones, thus allowing for clearer chain of command. Something that was always necessary in Jon's not to learned opinion, but especially in times of war.

Doukas, as Admiral of the First Fleet, essentially had the highest command, apart from Daenerys. And currently - Jon.

_You will command the fleet, he the army. It is time you proved yourself to me, Jon Snow._

The admiral hadn't argued too much. Along the journey, the two men had grown close. He appeared gruff on the outside, due to his rather forceful personality but was a good man otherwise. Eleksus was about the age of Ser Davos, but had a big bushy moustache, Jon learned the man was proud of. Every fortnight, the admiral would change its color, which as ridiculous as it seemed to Jon, it helped him to mark the time they spent at sea. The elder man was still fit, despite being as old as he was and from the few spars he had with the man - not bad with a sword either. Certainly not on Jon's level, but then again, like his friend had put it - _You fight like Westerosi, I don't._ Hopefully that would not be a problem. Doukas craved for battle, a Tiger indeed.

On the journey, Eleksus had taught him how to play cyvasse, which Jon came to appreciate. It was a nice way to pass the time.

"One thing I don't understand."

"Just one?", he quipped.

"A-ha." Jon snorted. "Very funny. What I meant was, why do people in Essos follow her so willingly? She ended slavery and from what little I know of it, the people of Essos practice it a great deal."

"She is powerful enough to enforce her will.", he answered. 'But no, that is not entirely fair. You see, back then, there were 5 slaves for every free man in Volantis. In Lys, it was 3 to 1. Most cities were in a similar spot. As you can imagine, one even relatively well-organized revolt could well doom our cities to peril. And it won't be a war, but a massacre - our entire culture would be wiped out. And threat of slave rebellion has always been present. One or two happen every once in a while. Fear gets you only so far and truth be told most of my compatriots are lazy. Ignorant of threats, even if they are right under their noses. Make no mistake, outlawing slavery has never been anyone's intent, but there were ideas."

"Such as?"

"Well, for instance, there was this man, Daevon Gaechyr, who once proposed to make laws, giving slaves some basic rights. To forbid slaves from being punished without actual witnesses to a purported crime. To have two meals a day, fresh clothes, one day of rest and so on."

"That doesn't sound so unreasonable." Jon said, knowing that it was only right that subjects should be treated this way.

"No, it doesn't. And yet the triachs at the time were unanimously against it. I am not a man for politics, kid. And most of us were nowhere near as terrible to our slaves compared to the Ghiscari, but..."

"Things change."

"Uhmm, they do. She wrecked all of that old world of ours to pieces. Essos has had slaves for as long as Westeros has had kings. People of your land think themselves so noble for outlawing it, but from what I've heard of your smallfolk, I dare say many of us treat our slaves better."

"Smallfolk of Westeros do not live in fear of being bought and sold. Nor are they beaten and broken until they are little more than soulless shells of themselves."

"No. You are right. They are instead bound to the land of their birth, toil in the fields, give most of their earnings to their lords, who live in their castles without a care in the world, and go to fight and die in their wars. Different words, same meaning. As our queen once said, the powerful always have the powerless at their mercy. What the queen wants, I hope I understand, is that the powerful learn some responsibility. And on that much, I agree completely. By the way, I win."

Jon looked down at the cyvasse board and laughed. His companion was quite good at distracting him like this. Yet, he wasn't wrong. For most Westerosi lords did indeed view their smallfolk as little more than their property, mere extensions of themselves. Not all, mind you, but Jon would be a fool if he thought it weren't most. They called the other side's soldiers as Lannisters and Starks and so on and yet those were not of those houses, merely their smallfolk. 

Jon hated those kinds of talk, for they seemed to change his views of the world constantly.

What was right and what was wrong?

Jon no longer truly knew.

He wanted to stand by Dany's side, to care for their daughter. He was a man displaced by another, a woman at that, which caused him to be jealous beyond compare, yet he hated her not. The former Braavosi courtesan, now known by the people of Volantis as "the queen's mistress" and more flatteringly as "the black pearl in the queen's crown", was not a bad person. In fact, she was the reason why Daenerys had not let Jon sleep in the gutter, he knew. And he hated owing to her, yet he did. Not that it mattered. He was done looking back. He would look forward, never backwards, only forward.

So many things were not what they should be. What they could be. And yet, this was. This was just right.

War.

His element. His lifeblood. The only thing which, without a doubt, he knew how to do.

He hated fighting. Once upon a time, when still King in the North, he was tired of it. Now, he craved it, the thing he truly knew how to do. To fight, a way to prove himself to her. Even though, he shall not command alone. And her dragon shall certainly do much of the work.

She loved war. That he knew, too. Daenerys was a conqueror and man, called Daario Naharis, had japed before they left, when he questioned what would she do once the world was taken. 

He could give it a guess. He knew she had not forgotten other people who had wronged her. And honestly, right now, he couldn't care less.

"ENEMIES AHEAD!!!", shouted one of their men and the two players of cyvasse rose from their seats to get on deck.

There were many. As far as the eye could see, it was overflowing with ships of the foe. The horizon was crammed with warships and in the distance Jon spotted the fiery eyes of the Titan of Braavos. The skies roared with both the rainstorm that had been raging for a while and the sounds of war horns and battle cries.

"Looks like it is about time we earned our keep." Eleksus glanced at Jon, before he shouted at the watchers. "How many ships are there, men?"

"More than 200, by the looks of it."

"We shall follow the plan. Load the catapults and prepare to begin the assault."

Jon unsheathed his sword, trusty Longclaw in hand and got ready to battle.

* * *

Flying on the back of Drogon was, as always, liberating. Nothing tattered her to the ground, to all the little frustrating people on the ground, who from a height great enough, seemed like ants. Those people....a source of pride and woe. Oddly enough, on the way to Braavos she herself had been ironically besieged by nightmares of that day. 

The day she lost. To herself. 

_Even after all those years, I can still hear their screams._

Guilt, shame, powerlessness - the cause of it - herself.

It didn't matter today. She is not going to burn this city. She had no need to. Nothing truly connected it to her anger and pain. Braavos had done nothing but try to kill her and her daughter. _Try_ being the key word. If it had succeeded, Daenerys knew the city and all its hundred isles would be ash by now. Instead, here she was - flying to conquer it from her enemies. To put a shackle on it, to break its false pride in its invulnerability and add it to her dominion.

Daenerys had finally decided on her vision. On the extension of her conquest. She would take everything between The Narrow Sea and the Bay of Dragons and that's it. No more. That was enough - one realm, one purpose, one ruler. She would make it the perfect realm to the envy of all who think her vile and ruthless. A realm that will prosper while those who denied her would rot and waste away. A realm for her daughter to inherit one day. One that would love her for being the daughter of Daenerys the Conqueror not the Mad King's daughter. All the past shames of House Targaryen will stay buried in Westeros, beneath the failures of her successors there. 

Let the past be the past. She would open herself to the future.

All of which led her to the present situation.

Lorath had already fallen to the measly forces she had sent there. As predicted. As for Norvos, the city would fall in line soon enough. They will surrender and its siege will end as soon as she takes Braavos. As soon as she had peace. As soon as her enemies were gone and buried. Or burned. Most likely burned. More memorable...less...open to interpretations. 

_You were not meant to sit on some chair. You are a conqueror, Daenerys Stormborn._ The words of Daario, spoken ages past, whispered in her ear. She hoped he was not right. Conquering was a simple thing, in a way, but she needed peace. Everyone did. And she was going to get it. But she had learned the most valuable lesson of all - she could only get her peace after crushing those who chose to oppose her.

Thoughts of other enemies flooded her, however briefly. Thoughts on Tyrion, her useless hand. Of Sansa Stark, a woman, whose meager excellence at politics was meant to disguise her lack of true leadership skills. Of Bran the Broken....

If you mean for people to respect you, perhaps you should not call yourself "the broken". Did he know of his sister's death? Did he care? That soulless creature, she met in Winterfell, did not seem to have the capacity to feel anything at all. Jon had told her of his meeting with the boy's predecessor, one of her ancestors, yet she thought it ridiculous. The all-seeing child who lacked a soul to care for things. What use was his gift if he cared for nothing? Like a Valyrian Steel Sword, left hanging on the wall. Beautiful and useless.

Daenerys had reached the city at last. The storm that was taking place in the skies around her wasn't really good news, but knew to be careful. While leaving the fleet to take care of the Braavosi one, Dany aimed for the Armory. It was a vast shipyard, where they could produce warships at very fast speeds, so the plan was to take it out and she did.

Descending from the cover of the clouds, she ordered Drogon to incinerate it with a massive burst of fire. As the sound of wood cracking and burning spread through the air, accompanied by the screams of guards and shipwrights, she knew it was obliterated and her task accomplished. 

Dany could hear the screams and shouts of despair, possessing the soldiers of the foe. She could see her forces overwhelming the enemy at sea and making their way to the coast. It may have been minutes or hours, time only distinguishable by her occasional attempts to dodge the ballistae and scorpion bolts sent her way. Most of them were nowhere near her, due to the stormy clouds obscuring the view. 

Her eyes scanned the Titan of Braavos. It's guardian deity. 

_"You've failed them."_ She thought. _"Just like I failed my people all those years ago, when I betrayed everything I stood for. You stand for freedom and yet you shielded those who choose to profit from it. I stood for good and yet did something obviously evil. Am I still....evil? Or am I just another of those wondering ants on the ground who looks for its own purpose in life? Perhaps I am. So many think me a god that I might have fooled myself into thinking so, too. I am not a god. I am a queen. That is why this city will not burn. But i should leave them a reminder of who I am, no?_

Dany turned her head to the collossus's highest point - its raised sword. During her childhood years in this city, she vividly remembered how the sword had been broken to near its handle. She remembered how Viserys had asked Ser Willem how could the Titan guard them with a broken sword. Their guardian had told them how the sword was broken during a lightning storm a century before that. They had raised it again. Its sword was raised, as if in defiance. Dany would rectify that.

She urged Drogon upwards and had him land on the Titan's head, the massive structure did not even shake at his landing. 

"Dracarys." She commanded and Drogon shot a massive jet of crimson and black fire right into the hilt of the sword, causing the copper blade to melt and fall off, the wreckage falling into the cliffs and sinking an enemy ship. 

"You kept Belle safe. At least, she thought you did. You and that fiery gaze of yours protected her in her childhood and before she came to me. That is my task now. Your role in her life is the only reason I will leave you standing, but you will never raise your sword against me. Never again."

She was threatening a statue. Perhaps she truly was mad.

* * *

When the Titan's sword had fallen into the cliffs next to the Titan's pass, the whole sea shook. Did she realize the effect she had on them during, what he could only surmise was her symbolic revenge? She hopefully did. It had not harmed any of their men. All it did was sink two or three enemy ships, which was all well and good. The enemy fleet had been split and scattered thanks to the expert maneuvers of their captains. They began by launching projectiles from the catapults and the rest was already history to be detailed in some history book by someone who understood more from ship battles than Jon Snow.

Ships crashed, ships sank, men died. The usual stuff. In the end of it all, the ship he was on managed to pass near the wreckage that used to be the Arsenal of Braavos. The Old Glory, as the ship was called, managed to carve its way through the enemy vessels enough to survive its way into the city itself, even though the waters between the isles were teeming with enemy vessels, too. Instead of enemy troops, it were ships that flooded this city. Daenerys had forbidden sacking, but he knew what men were capable of doing in times of war so he had mentally prepared himself for the moment command would be his.

And it was as soon as they landed on the Bank's Isle. It was the headquarters of the Iron bank, the seat of its power, their true enemy.

"Kill them all.", he shouted. "Spare me some of their leaders. No other survivors."

As soon as Jon landed and unsheathed his sword, he felt alive. Truly alive. Whatever opponent got in his way, he slaughtered without a shred of mercy. He didn't care for their reasonings to fight him - money or patriotism - all he cared for was that these people were the enemy. Of himself, of Daenerys, of Rhaenys, of their House. Of House Targaryen. And damned he may be if he failed in his duty to protect them a second time.

He must have been a fearsome thing. The White Wolf howling. Swinging his Longclaw at any foe, unfortunate enough to stand in his way. Covered in blood and gore from head to toe. Unrelenting and unstoppable. Merciless. Cruel, perhaps. It didn't matter. These wretches were protecting the men, who thought they would sign their death warrants from behind some desk and plot their profits. No mercy he could promise. Or give. Only death, that was the only mercy he was willing to bestow upon them. 

Was he a fearsome wolf or a vengeful dragon? Jon knew the answer lied somewhere in-between. 

By the time the bloody dance of combat had ended, he was drenched with blood. And not only him. Doukas was almost as bloody as Jon, his proud moustache now colored all crimson. It suited him, Jon smirked, briefly forgetting the situation. They had reached a vast hall filled with cowering accountants, all shivering with fear, some courageous enough to offer gold and treasure in exchange for their lives. They were to die, all of them. A particular one, a Tycho Nestoris, was to be delivered to Daenerys alive, if possible, and Jon, eager to please, scanned the room, looking for him. He spotted a man with balding black hair that looks like the man, Dany's sorcerer, described.

"Are you Tycho Nestoris?", He questioned the shivering figure, hiding behind one of the massive pillars in the chamber.

"No, please, I will give you as much gold as you want...I.."

"I will take that as a yes. Take that man into custody and dispose of the rest of their leadership." He turned to the scribes, who unlike the rest, cowered without any sellswords' corpses in front of them. "As for the rest of you, this bank and everything in it now belongs to House Targaryen and the New Freehold."

* * *

By the time she decided to land on the Sealord's Isle, Daenerys could already see her troops having invaded the palace. She didn't want to have too much of a part to play in the actual battle. Dany feared the temptation still, the lust for battle. That urge to turn what she despised to ash. So she watched. She spent the hours-long battle in the sky, watching the events unfold and burning through whatever ballistae and scorpions and whatnots she noticed.

All that was left to disturb her passage through the corridors of the Sealord's palace were the salutations she got from her soldiers, who had already secured the location. It was time to end this. And she hoped the sealord would prove to be as reasonable as she hoped. Dany did not want to have to tell Belle of how she killed him. She was so tired of that simple yet complex notion. She needed a break from it. 

The man was dressed in purple-dominated robes, denoting his status. His hair was the same color as her love's and yet that was about the only similarity she found. Right next to him knelt Nestoris. The man who had negotiated with Cersei, who had also organized her assassination attempt. The most recent one. Jon stood with his blade out, face all bloody. And glorious. 

_You have never been more beautiful, Jon Snow._ She thought to herself. Only one other person could compare but she was on the other end of Essos right now, playing with her daughter. _Second chances.....perhaps.....we will see...._

"You were in King's Landing. You conspired to murder me and my child. You will die screaming.", she left the simpering man and turned to the other, slightly calmer one. "What about you? What shall I do with you?"

"Your Grace, I had nothing to do with the attempt on your family. Thus, given the circumstances, I bend the knee to you and will appeal to your mercy and hope that you do not compare the intentions of my fair city to the actions of its bank."

"Fortunately for you, I do not. And you will have plenty of years at my service in order to prove your goodwill." She hoped she won't regret it. But it did not matter. She would make certain that he won't - her conquest of Braavos should have made that clear. No one is a match for her.

"You,on the other hand....." She turned towards Nestoris. "Are out of a job. Your colleagues will be executed or imprisoned. The Iron bank will fade into distant memory and all its wealth will be the sole property of the New Freehold and House Targaryen."

"You can't.", he gasped. "Those money belong to all sorts of people, all throughout the world. You think they will stomach your appropriation of their money?"

"You misunderstand." She corrected him. The silly willful girl of the past was not the one in front of him. "The Iron Bank will disappear. In its place, a new bank will take place. One that does not dabble in slavery, this time. Nor the backing of any of my enemies. A bank under the control of my house and those I deem worthy to be its administrators. A Targaryen bank. My bank. And this is my city now, too." She turned towards her troops and battle commanders. "My conquest has been concluded. From now on, I declare the end of our wars. Our empire has been formed - one that will last for thousands of years and will one day surely outshine Valyria itself."

"Long may she reign.", she heard Jon shout and his words were echoed by the voices of the others.

"Long may she reign."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all those who are still reading this story:  
> Thank you for still sticking with me. The ride is not even half way done, but I prefer my new slower writing style. Its easier to think everything through.  
> Here Jon starts turning into....a dragon, dragon wolf. Daenerys I think is more humanized and we get a glimpse at her inner feelings and she shows her endgame goals.


	12. The Death of Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All hell breaks loose in Westeros, as the Young prove just how dangerous they are.  
> 
> 
> *Mentions and depictions of violence and abuse in the beginning. Be warned. (This is Westeros. It is kind of expected. Little to no details though, promise.)

The tears on his face ran dry a long time ago.

He has been crying since the Red Wedding.

He cried when he heard of what had happened there. 

He couldn't do so now. 

Why?

Perhaps he could cry no longer. Not that he had no reason to.

He did not want to raise his head, the ground being the only sight which was peaceful. The green grass, which proved that no matter how much the Riverlands burned, they would always restore themselves.

Death by fire or by sword, his homeland would restore itself.

But would it restore itself from this? The death of reason?

Tears and ash prickled at his eyes, but he could still see Riverrun. The home of his boyhood and all his ancestors. The capital of the Riverlands since the Conquest. 

The fire was stinging in his eyes, as if they were on fire. He wished they truly were, to spare him the sight.  
It hurt to look ahead, at the burning corpse of his home. The river ran red with blood, corpses clogging the mighty Trident like a broken bridge of hope. Hopes dashed to pieces by those who hungered for violence. The bloodthirsty peasants, who called themselves the Young. As if they were the future.

A dark future. A nightmare, which invaded reality one bloodbath at a time.

The horrible man lifted his head up by the hair and twisted it to look at the crosses. His family. His wife and son, crucified after those savages had had their way with them. 

The former Lord of Riverrun burst into tears once more, when he was reminded of their screams for mercy. For help. For justice.

They had received naught, but undeserved violence.

And death.

"I gotta admit, I didn't think that it would be this easy.", he heard his captor gloat. "Guess the Tullys are no longer so loved."

"I defended them.", his heart broke when he was betrayed by the peasantry, whom he defended even when his advisors urged him to let them starve.

"Aye, you tried. Ya failed. And now, they serve me pleasure. As do you."

Bound and chained to a tree, Edmure could not prevent the bastard from relieving himself all over him in a final act of degradation. 

"Stop this you fucking bastard!", he roared, his eyes closed, trying to ignore the sting of piss which found its way onto his fresh wounds.

"Aye, I am a bastard." Walder Rivers laughed. "Another Walder for my father to have and yet here I am. The last Frey."

"How could people follow a bastard like you? A fucking godsforsaken Frey."

"Honestly? I don't give a shit about any of this. I just like the destruction. The slaughter. The spoils. I am thinking of paying a visit to your niece next. Or your crippled nephew. Father failed to butcher the dogs, but me thinks it's time I got my shot."

"You will never get away with this!", he tried to shout, but Edmure's voice was hoarse. "DO YOU HEAR!!!?!"

"Haven't you understood the message yet, _my lord_?" the bastard asked mockingly, while unsheathing his rusted sword, blade still wet with Tully blood. "The age of kings is over." 

A single swing of the sword ended Edmure Tully's life and House Tully of Riverrun along with it.

* * *

The Bloody Hand. People oft called him so.

Tyrion had been curious when he heard it first. He sent men to discover the source of his new moniker. He liked the way it rolled off the tongue. _Everything beats 'the demon monkey'._

Apparently, it originated with a group of Braavosi mummers, in one of whose plays, named just so, they portrayed Robert's death and what happened after. It did no portray him in a very great light. Not that this was shocking. 

Tyrion was best In the shadows, where he could not lead kings and queens to their doom.

It is after all what he had done. 

Joffrey was hopeless. He was not Tyrion's fault. He was Cersei's.

Tommen was a sweet boy, who had it in him to be a great king, had he ruled in a more peaceful era. _As if something like that has ever existed._

He ruined Stannis, which was something he took pride in. Yet....would it have been different if he had failed and Stannis had taken the city. _Father would have arrived in the middle of the sack. It would have been another bloody slaughter. And even if he had won, Daenerys would still have arrived and faced a divided realm. Nobody liked the poor fool._

And of course, her. OR them. Jon and Daenerys.

_I do ruin everything I touch._

_You should have thrown me off the cliffs, father. You would have saved everyone a lot of trouble doing so. Instead, I lived to screw things up and you died in the privy._

Not that Tyrion pitied himself too much. Or them. It was their fault for listening to him. For giving the misshapen imp a chance to vanquish them. Not that he managed to destroy the last two.

They had heard news from the east. Braavos fell. She won again. A single simple Imp defeated the woman, who all the free cities trembled in fear of. _My one saving grace. That and the fact that she has not yet come here to finish me off._

Tyrion glanced at the letter, he had received from House Bracken. House Tully was gone. 

When he read it the first time, he could scarcely believe his own eyes. _A jest._ He thought. _Surely it's but a jest._

It was no jest. It was a nightmare. 

All it had taken was a few dissatisfied servants to open the castle gates, and that was it for the proud trout lord. HIs garrison was butchered, some in their sleep, others with a spear at hand. It mattered little, as Lord Bracken reports, given that corpses in Tully colors wash out from the Trident. Hundreds of men. Dead men. Reports state that his wife and son were crucified. Or raped and then crucified. Probably the latter. Why not add rape to a little slaughter. Wouldn't make too much of a difference in Tyrion's mind. 

_A trout._ He scoffed. _What kind of an ending could a man have, if he put a fish on his banners._

_Proud Lord Edmure's corpse was found mutilated, headless and chained to a tree. The head in the man's cold dead hands, a fish stuck in the mouth. _One has to admire their taste for irony and depravity._ _

The imp's sniggering echoed through his solar, the lonely man taking comfort in the little things. He still remembered how the man tried to nominate himself at the Great Council. On account of his 'seniority', no less. _Great experience he had indeed. Rotting in Lannister dungeons is educational. Just ask Sansa Stark._

The blasted woman had promised him men, but as soon as she heard of her 'dearest' uncle's demise, had ordered the honorable northern soldiers to pillage the Riverlands for resources and ship them to Winterfell. _The Riverlands are lost._ She had said. _Better take what we can._

It is not the act he deplored, for he would have advised the same. It is the fact she had refused to share, what bothered him. That and the fact she had taken most of her soldiers home to defend her precious Winterfell, leaving him to his own devices.

_Not that it matters. The Riverlands were a burned out husk, my dear father saw to that. The Riverlords will be useless, every man for himself._

Symbolically, Tyrion had granted the title of Lord Paramount to Lord Jonos Bracken in an attempt to pacify the region. No such luck. Bracken sent numerous reports ever since, bragging about how he was winning against the Young, but Tyrion's more independent sources told him how much of the lord's victories were hollow - few enemies dead, the rest fled. Meanwhile the lord's men were dwindling in numbers.

The peasants may be uneducated miscreants, but their leaders were a bit smarter than that, for they avoided open battles and whenever they had to fight the king's men, they did so using guerilla tactics. 

_Fucking cunts. Can't they just let me drink myself to death in peace, BEFORE they burn down Westeros?!?_

Tyrion's growing agitation at the peasants' inconsideration forced him to toss his cup straight out of the window. As he had gotten closer, he could hear the shouts from outside. It was a daily occurrence ever since the Young started making a name for themselves. More and more revolts against him and his king, just because they were in charge of what remained of the city. _They should just jump on a boat and go to Volantis to piss her off. She is the one responsible, after all._

"If only it were that easy. But alas, the good people of the city fear her and know better. So they will bring headaches to me and my absentee king." he muttered in frustration.

"My lord?" 

Tyrion turned so suddenly that he winced at the sudden sharp feeling in his neck. He had completely forgotten that the messenger, who had delivered him Bracken's latest report was still there.

"Yes, yes, my apologies, my friend. I forgot you were there." Speaking like that to a cousin of a lord did not bother him in the slightest. Being the Hand of the King had a few advantages. One of them being insulting those beneath him and not giving a shit about it. "I'll have the servants prepare you a room. Tomorrow you will receive the reply for your lord."

"Thank you, my lord." the lad bowed and left.

 _Thank you, my lord._ At least he has manners, if not a head. If he could think for himself, he would have simply fled across the sea. This is what people got wrong. There was no saving Westeros. It was a land of violence and political intrigues, constant instability and chaos. 

_It's almost as if the Targaryens engineered it so that it would fall if they do._ A scary thought, yet every new day it seemed more plausible. 

Not that it mattered either. The Young murdered their first lord paramount. More would follow soon enough. Before long, the good people of the city will tear him to pieces. Tyrion only hoped that the king would exit his trance till then, so that the Imp could look into his eyes, while smothering the useless boy.

 _Let it burn._ He thought with a sneer. _Let the fucking peasants tear each other to pieces. Let the lords be their supper. Let them drown their thirst in their own blood. Let the War for the Dawn become pointless._

_Let it all burn._

Little did Tyrion know that his wish would be granted within a fortnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope there is someone still reading this. I decided to dedicate this chapter to the mess that is Westeros.
> 
> Next up - the fall of King's Landing


	13. The Fall of King's Landing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was striving for a more original title, but I suppose there is no point in sugarcoating it. 
> 
> Multiple POVs.
> 
> King's Landing falls. Some will escape. Some will die. Some will....

_Shit._

That is the first word that came to Lester's mind, when he entered the city. He had never visited the capital before, but he had heard stories from his father. "You can smell the shit from a mile away.", he would say, whenever someone brought it up and they would all laugh at his jape. 

His father wasn't entirely wrong. Lester could sense a foul smell before he even set eyes on it. 

From a distance it reminded him of the tales of Harrenhall and Oldstones - vast ruins of long-forgotten times. The walls seemed freshly restored, with some even still under reconstruction. Beyond them, he saw the famed Red Keep, which had certainly seen better days. _Harrenhall must look similar._ He thought. Maybe it truly did. Even from a distance, half the castle seemed a blasted ruin. 

There was life here though. He passed through the gates, presenting himself as a travelling merchant and the contents of his carriage - fruits and vegetables. Given the famine that the city was barely surviving, nobody would look the gifted horse in the mouth. Lester even gave a bag of apples to the guards to speed things along for good measure. 

It was hardly necessary and every merchant of similar standing to the one he claimed would scoff, but he was cautious still. Better not to have to answer too many questions.

The food was only a front. The real purpose of his mission was to smuggle in the contents of the hidden compartment of the carriage, carefully concealed in the false floor. 

After he successfully moved through, he directly headed to a tavern in Flea Bottom, where he was to meet his brothers-in-arms. Lester tried to ignore the scores of starving beggars, who littered the streets. He even ignored the mothers in the shady corners, who would offer their bodies and the bodies of their daughters for a little bread. Those were the people, they were fighting for, but he had no time to waste.

It was a shabby looking building, whose roof may be leaking, but that was for the best. They needed no interruptions.

"The summer is coming.", he told a man, guarding the front door. It was the chosen phrase to gain entry.

"Aye, it is. It's already in the air.", the gruff man opened the gates to the backyard and guided the horses inside. 

"Did you bring it boss?", a man asked. One among dozens of people, who had been waiting him inside the ruined tavern and came out to greet him. They knew no names, only their titles within the Young were important. If caught, it were better not to be able to divulge a lot of information. 

"Aye. It's in the false floor of the carriage. Help me remove it!" Carefully, they removed the bags and barrels of precious food and then the planks beneath and uncovered the real prize - barrels of a mixture of oil and pitch, which when ignited would cause a mighty explosion. 

"And that shit would blow up the Red Keep?" a man with rotten teeth questioned. 

"Aye, it will. We took the recipe from an old disgruntled maester, who stole if from the Citadel."

"But was he telling the truth? He could be lying, no?"

"Aye, but he didn't. We paid him well and tested it in secrecy. It works. Besides, we need not blow up the whole castle, just enough to cause a revolt. With this and the rest sent beforehand, we should have enough, surely?!"

"Won't need much of a spark for that.", the doorman said. "This city is fucked. Just look at the those poor shits. Mothers sell their daughters for food. Boys steal and even whore to earn some coin. Tax collectors dare not even enter Flea Bottom in fear of never getting out of there alive. It's the seventh hell out there. Most of the city is the same and those fuckers in the Red Keep can't do shit."

"Alright then, listen to the plan."

* * *

The soft shifting of the ground beneath him and the warm sun did nothing to convince him that it was a good day. Every bone in his body screamed at him to leave. The black tom cat, Davos had befriended while in the Keep, was even more irritable than usual. The cat was old and ruffled, one of its eyes was missing. A fierce looking creature it is, black as a nightmare, ferocious as a direwolf. From an old servant in the Keep, he learned that the cat had belonged to Princess Rhaenys, another innocent little princess butchered. She had named the cat Balerion and the man said that the cat had been making trouble for everyone since the Rebellion, all the while avoiding capture.

"You are a tough old beast, aren't you?", he tossed him another piece of meat, which the cat greedily swallowed up. "A survivor through hell after hell. Just like me. We deserve this retirement, my friend."

"Are you sure you are leaving, Ser Davos?" The Tarly boy was the only one who he could stomach these days, but Davos had long decided to leave. He was done with it a long time ago, but he had gotten the hint to leave, the moment he heard of the Young. After his wife and children narrowly avoided death at their own home by the bastards, he had them go to Storm's End. He did not mind going there himself. Gendry was a nice lad and people loved him. Besides, if push came to shove, they could always go to Essos.

Davos was already on his ship. All of his belongings were packed and the _Princess Shireen_ was ready to set sail.

"Aye, I am sure.", he answered. "And if you were as smart as you claim, you would leave, too." After the boy made a grimace, he apologized. "Look, I am sorry, but I can live in this wretched place no longer. After my family almost got lynched on the streets, that was the last straw. I am done here."

"But surely his Grace is hard at work, trying to locate the Young and vanquish them."

"Really?", he asked incredulously. "Come on, Sam. I've been serving a lot of monarchs and quite frankly he is the most disappointing one yet. He does nothing, just staring at those fucking trees. It's been this way for years."

"You can't talk like that. He is the king."

"Oh? And what's going to happen? OH, GODS! STRIKE ME DOWN HERE AND NOW, IF MY WORDS OFFENDED YOU!" The sky was clear blue as far as the eye could see. "See? Guess, they don't mind."

The fat boy sighed. "Gilly, Little Sam and Jon are at Horn Hill. I miss them every day, too."

"You can come with me, lad. Nothing is holding you here."

"Aye. Nothing, but duty."

"Duty to whom Sam? The fucking realm is going to hell and so far the Imp's efforts to save it have been in vain. I for one am tired of this."

*KAABOOOOOM* 

Everything seemed to jump into the air when the loud explosion was reverberated through the air. The entire west wing of the Red Keep crumbled on itself and fell towards the castle gates, followed by several other structures crumbling. His men were panicked and with a good reason. Davos was still on his knees from the explosion, while the Grand Maester had fallen on his butt. 

Slowly, he lifted himself to his feet and helped the still dizzy Samwell Tarly. 

"W-w-w-w-what happened?", he stuttered. "Are we under attack? The Dragon queen?"

"No dragons in the sky.", he said, while still turning around for safe measure. _Can't be her. Dragon fire does things differently. Besides, she can't hide that beast in a cloudless sky._ "It may be the Young."

"But how have they infiltrated the city?"

"Doesn't matter. I am leaving and will advise you to do the same."

After some hesitation, the fat maester boarded the ship and the crew began rolling towards the sea. Scanning the burning city one last time, Davos Seaworth set course for Storm's End.

* * *

The explosion rattled him more than he would have expected. At first he thought, _Hey she has finally come to kill me._

He hadn't felt like that since the Daenerys assaulted the city. This was not her though. No dragon in the sky, no screamers at the gates. 

The Young. They are here.

 _Let it all burn._ He had said. Who would have thought that Tyrion would be such a prophet?

Tyrion was ready for it. As much as he didn't care whether he lived or died, a primal survival instinct urged him to make a plan. And a plan he already had. 

Fuck the king. Fuck the people. He had packed a bag, filled with gold and some food and water, enough to book a passage and a journey to some far away city. Maybe he could go juggle on the streets of Oldtown. Or Braavos. Or Lys. Tyrion could imagine himself earning enough coin to get himself a whore, who looked like Daenerys. _I still remember that broad from Volantis._ Tyrion had just finished shaving his beard, so he doubted anyone would recognize the dwarf, who had not shaven in years. He looked almost like a proper gentleman, safe the fact that he was short and stunted. And dressed in more common clothes, which could easily be mistaken for those of a peasant. 

Just before he was to sneak out through the secret passage of the Tower of the Hand, one so familiar to him already, Ser Brienne burst through the door, face bloody from battle and sword in hand. 

"My lord Hand!", the ugly wench shouted.

Tyrion tried to feign concern. "Lady Commander. What is the situation?"

"The citizens have risen in revolt. They have invaded castle grounds and are trying to breach the gates to Maegor's Holdfast."

"How the fuck did they breach the castle gates?"

"The explosion collapsed the Maidenvolt. When the tower fell apart, it collapsed a part of the wall and made a bridge through. The enemy must have caused it. They are flooding the castle."

 _How devilishly clever._ Tyrion thought with ill-concealed envy. _A clever plan. I used to excel at those._

"What is the status of our king and fellow councilmen?" He didn't particularly care, but he had to keep up appearances for the moment.

"The King is still in trance. Ser Pordrick is looking after him and is currently trying to sneak him out of the castle." _Oh, Pod. When will you learn?_ "Ser Davos as you know was leaving today and he must have been at the docks, preparing his ship. The Grand Maester was there, trying to convince him to stay." _So those two may well survive us yet._

"Royce fled to the Vale, to guide his liege lord, he said. And our chosen Master of Coin is yet to make an appearance." _Not like Jasper Redwyne cares for us, but I at least expected a reply._ "Go gather the guards and try to hold them off, while the king flees." _And I as well._

"Will you come with me, my lord?" _No, I am running away, you stupid wench. Gods, this women is really thick. But then again, she thought that Jaime would abandon Cersei for her. As if my brother wished to die from anything other than our poisonous sister._

"No, my lady. I shall first destroy some documents, which must not befall enemy hands. You go now."

The bloody woman finally took her leave and Tyrion sighed in relief. _Goodbye Brienne of Tarth. May your death be less painful than your pathetic life._

Tyrion took one last look at his badge of office and tossed it out of the window. _Good riddance._ He put cloak on, concealing his face with the hood, grabbed his bag and fled through the narrow passageway. The cracks in the walls revealed only bloodshed. At one point he heard the ridiculous battle cry of Brienne and just as he was about to look through a crack to see more, his eye got splashed with blood. 

"Fucking hells."

Tyrion hastened to the end, trying to reach the exit he desired. It was like a maze down there, with the only map being in his possession. Unfortunately, several tunnels had collapsed thanks to Daenerys's onslaught, but fortunately the one he needed was still intact. It led to a cave, which had a small cove, where he had tied a small boat. _All this for a small man._

He had prepared a boat there, which would take him out at sea. By the time anyone realized what had happened, Tyrion would be long gone.

Light blinded his eyes and he knew he had to be there. Unfortunately, he was not alone.

"Fancying a trip, my lord?" Tyrion noticed the mockery in the voice of the intruder and had his hands on his dagger, before his sight was fully restored. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." 

As soon as he saw again, he noticed there were three men there, all armed. Tyrion cursed and threw the dagger on the ground. "Gentlemen, please. I am Hugor Hill, the king's fool. I am just trying to avoid the carnage."

"A fool you are, my lord. Though not of that kind."

His ruse discovered, Tyrion sighed. "I image the Young would like to see me roasted on a spitfire then?"

"Most likely. Though we ain't the Young. Lord Redwyne would like to have a word, Imp."

"Redwyne?" _What does that fucker want with me?_ "Look, gentlemen. I know where the treasury is. Perhaps, I could guide you there in exchange for you letting me use that boat?"

"Fat chance, Imp. Now, come along. Lord Redwyne wants you alive, but how alive depends on you, if you understand what I mean." Tyrion nodded dejectedly. "If it's any consolation, you will still most likely end up dead." the bastard sniggered, while his companions tied Tyrion's hands behind his back. 

"Quite frankly not. You know, this reminds me very much of that time when-mumph," They gagged his mouth and Tyrion was taken away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well what do you think? Please comment. I long planned on how this to go down and I hope it was worth the wait.
> 
> I couldn't help but include Balerion the cat. I really wanted to send him to Daenerys, but.....all in good time.  
> Brienne dies offscreen. Sorry, not sorry.  
> Davos survives, because he is the only one from the small council scene that I still loved.  
> Sam has to live, so that I can prove that I do not just murder any character I don't like.  
> As for Tyrion....well....he lives.....for now. I don't want to give away any more spoilers. Though, you are free to guess how Redwyne know where and when to send his men to catch Tyrion. 
> 
> Next - one year time jump. Jon gets used to having the family he always wanted and the fact that he is not the only one in Dany's bed and heart (Yes, I'm still going to amuse myself and you with that). Tyrion learns the devastating truth of how he has been outplayed.

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning, it will be a while before Jon and Dany meet again. Several chapters for us, several years for them. And it won't be easy for them to forgive each other. So don't expect them to hop into bed immediately.
> 
> Please comment on your views in the comment section. A little encouragement goes a long way ;)


End file.
